POSSESSION 

WITH 

THE  GROOVE,  THE  UNBORN,  CIRCLES, 
A  GOOD  WOMAN,  THE  BLACK  TIE 


ONE- ACT  PLATS  OF  CONTEMPORART  LIFE 


BY 


GEORGE  MIDDLETON 

Author  of  Embers,  Tradition,  Nowadays^  etc. 


" these  women  are. 

More  brain,  O  Lord,  more  brain!  or  we  shall  mar 
Utterly  tliis  fair  garden  we  might  win." 

Modern  Love. 


NEW  YORK 

HENRY   HOLT   AND   COMPANY 
1915 


COPYRIGHT,  1915, 

BY 

GEORGE   MIDDLETON 

Copyright  in  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  and  in  all  Coun 
tries  subscribing  to  the  Bern  Convention. 

Published  January,  1915 


These  plays  in  their  printed  form  are  designed  for  the 
reading  public  only.  All  dramatic  rights  in  them  are  fully 
protected  by  copyright,  both  in  the  United  States  and  in 
Great  Britain,  and  no  performance— professional  or  amateur 
—or  public  reading,  may  be  given  without  the  written  permis 
sion  of  the  author  and  the  payment  of  royalty.  Communica 
tions  should  be  sent  to  the  author,  care  of  Henry  Holt  and 
Co.,  34  West  ssd  St.,  New  York  City. 


THE  QUINM  *  BODEN  CO.  PRESS 
RAHWAY,  N.  J. 


To  my  good  friend 
RALPH   CURTIS  RINGWALT 


PREFACE 

IT  is  a  fact  that  many  plays  which  aim  at  a  serious 
presentation  of  life  are  denied  a  hearing  solely  because 
the  manager — necessarily  commercial — has  learned 
from  experience  that  the  theater  in  America  has  not 
been  able  as  yet  so  to  organize  its  audiences  that  such 
plays  will  be  as  liberally  supported  as  kaleidoscopic 
comedies  and  lithographic  melodramas.  The  dramatist, 
therefore,  who  prefers  to  follow  the  impulse  within 
him,  irrespective  of  whether  or  not  his  play  may  have 
a  wide  popular  appeal,  has  had  little  encouragement. 
This  is  obviously  so  where  his  subjects  are  quietly  inti 
mate  and  where  the  clash  of  character  is  subtly  mental 
or  emotional;  especially  when  one  compares  such  plays 
with  those  others,  no  more  dramatic  in  essence,  which 
naturally  command  a  greater  audience  because  the 
action  is  physical,  external,  and  more  readily  compre 
hended. 

If  he  be  honest  enough,  however,  to  recognize  frankly 
the  many  reasons  why  conditions  are  as  they  are,  he 
need  not  bewail  what  may  be  only  a  transitional  state 
of  affairs.  He  will  pursue  his  work  for  the  joy  it  will 
bring  him :  he  will  not  compromise  with  what  vision  and 
art  he  may  possess.  By  doing  this  he  will  at  least 
achieve  his  own  self-expression — which  should  be  of 
prime  importance  to  him ;  and  he  will  not  lose  his  pro- 


vfii  PREFACE 

portion  by  coddling  himself  with  self-pity  over  the 
neglect  of  the  larger  public. 

Speaking  for  such  workers  I  have  suggested  in  my 
preface  to  NOWADAYS  the  value  of  play  publica 
tion:  not  as  a  substitute  for  production  but  as  an 
alternative  for  those  whose  dramas  may  offer  little 
attraction  to  the  manager  because  of  theme  or  treat 
ment.  Through  publication  the  dramatist  thus  gains  a 
certain  audience  otherwise  denied  him,  and  time,  too, 
may  bring  him  the  production  which  each  play  must 
have  to  make  it  a  vital  living  expression.  It  has  been 
this  thought — which  contains  no  criticism  of  the  many 
excellent  plays  that  win  an  easy  way  to  the  footlights — 
as  well  as  the  limited  opportunities  afforded  the  one- 
act  play  in  America,  which  has  impelled  me  to  offer 
another  volume  to  a  reading  public  already  generous  to 
my  earlier  efforts. 

POSSESSION  continues  my  series  of  one-act  plays 
begun  in  EMBERS  and  TRADITION.  In  it  I  have 
sought  once  more  to  depict  intimate  phases  of  modern 
character  expressing  itself  on  contending  planes  of  evo 
lution.  As  Spinoza  points  out,  one  should  look  at  all 
the  motives  of  human  feeling  which  drive  people  into 
action,  not  as  vices  of  human  nature,  but  as  properties 
belonging  to  it,  just  as  cold  and  heat  belong  to  the  air. 
To  reflect  these  motives,  with  a  sympathy  which  does 
not  sentimentalize  them,  should  be,  in  my  opinion,  the 
highest  aim  of  the  dramatist,  who  through  the  moving 
quality  of  his  medium  may  thus  in  turn  broaden  a  little 
the  human  sympathies  of  the  beholder.  With  this  idea 
in  the  background  these  plays,  in  the  main,  are  studies 


PREFACE  ix 

in  marriage  and  family  relations,  having  the  emphasis 
on  woman — blindly  groping  or  clear  visioned,  as  the 
case  may  be — about  whom  to-day  the  conflict  of  social 
traditions  with  growing  individualism  is  centered. 

G.  M. 
October  29,   1914. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

PREFACE vii 

POSSESSION i 

THE   GROOVE 59 

A  GOOD  WOMAN 95 

THE  BLACK  TIE 125 

CIRCLES 153 

THE   UNBORN      .                     ....  187 


POSSESSION 


THE  PEOPLE 

HOWARD  BANNING,  a  prominent  financier. 
KATRINE,  his  divorced  wife. 
POLLY,   their  daughter. 
ANNE,  an  old  family  nurse. 
JOHN,  the  butler. 


SCENE 

The  entrance  hallway  in  BANNING'S  home,  New  Yon 
City.     Late  one  March  afternoon. 


POSSESSION  * 

/f  S  the  curtain  slowly  rises  the  broad  entrance 
/-i    hallway  of  a  luxuriously  appointed  residence  is 
-^  •*•     disclosed. 

The  porch  without  is  faintly  seen  through  the  wide 
door  whose  beveled  glass  panel  is  covered  with  fine 
lace.  Directly  opposite  this  street  entrance  the  broad 
stairway  mounts  to  the  floors  above.  In  back,  a 
short  section  of  the  wall,  on  which  is  an  impos 
ing  bronze-shield  clock,  divides  the  open  spaces  of  two 
handsomely  decorated  rooms  that  extend  beyond:  the 
one  at  the  left  is  obviously  a  reception-room;  the  other, 
partly  hidden  by  the  stairway,  is  the  dining-room.  In 
the  niche,  made  by  the  stairs  and  the  wall  at  the  right,  a 
cozy  corner  is  visible  in  which  is  tucked  a  small  settee 
accessible  to  the  J phone  on  a  low  table.  The  hall 
way  itself  is  of  the  finest  paneled  wood,  here  and  there 
supporting  electric  clusters  now  unlighted.  It  is,  of 
course,  simply  furnished,  though  there  are  several  long 
low  attractively  carved  chests  which  stand  against  the 
visible  and  invisible  walls.  These  are  cushioned  in 
tone  to  match  the  soft  Oriental  rugs  on  the  hardwood 
floor.  The  entire  impression  is  of  studied  simplicity 
made  possible  by  great  means. 

*  Copyright,  1914,  by  George  Middleton.      All  rights  reserved. 


!f.  '  .POSSESSION 

Though  it  is  late  afternoon — the  hands  of  the  clock, 
in  fact,  indicate  a  quarter  to  five — the  sun  still  pours 
in  sufficiently  through  the  glass  door  and  the  windows 
suggested  in  the  extreme  rear  to  light  the  hallway. 

For  some  moments  no  one  is  seen.  Then  POLLY 
comes  from  the  dining-room,  looking  for  her  "  Alice  in 
Wonderland." 

POLLY  is  about  six  or  seven.  She  is  dressed  in  a  neat 
frock  and  her  hair  is  tied  with  a  ribbon  which  sets  off 
her  thoughtful  face.  She  is  rather  a  winsome  body, 
with  a  quaint  attractive  charm  all  her  own. 

She  finds  the  book  on  one  of  the  chests  and  slowly 
goes  up  the  stairs  looking  at  the  pictures.  Then  she  is 
no  longer  seen. 

A  few  seconds  after  this,  the  figure  of  a  woman  is 
indistinctly  observed  outside  trying  to  look  in  through 
the  street  door.  She  hesitates  a  moment;  then  a  key 
is  heard  slowly  turning  in  the  lock.  She  opens  the  door 
almost  stealthily  and  stands  there.  She  absently  pushes 
the  door  to  as  though  fearing  one  might  see  her  and, 
not  knowing  what  to  do  with  the  key,  places  it  in  her 
handbag.  It  is  KATRINE  BANNING. 

KATRINE  is  about  thirty.  The  thin  outlines  of  her 
delicate  face  quickly  reveal  a  woman  of  natural  refine 
ment  and  her  general  manner  indicates  assured  social 
position.  At  present  her  large  deep  eyes  are  narrowed 
with  suppressed  excitement,  her  frail  body  quivers  with 
alert  attention;  she  seems  tuned  to  a  purpose.  One  in 
tuitively  gains  a  sense  that  she  is  not  naturally  self- 
willed,  but  has  been  made  so  by  overwhelming  circum 
stance — a  woman  determined  but  unused  to  the  per- 


POSSESSION  5 

vading  emotion  which  is  now  impelling  her  life.     She 
is  quietly  gowned. 

She  gains  control  of  herself,  and  after  looking  about 
the  room  for  a  moment  as  though  it  recalled  many 
things,  her  eyes  finally  rest  on  the  stairs.  She  slowly 
moves  toward  them — hesitating,  gaining  courage,  and 
finally  confident.  As  she  is  about  to  ascend  them,  how 
ever,  the  telephone  sharply  rings.  She  quivers.  In 
stinctively  she  retreats  into  the  reception-room  as  she 
hears  the  outer  dining-room  door  open  and  close.  With 
a  quick  glance  in  that  direction,  she  conceals  herself  in 
back  as  JOHN",  the  butler,  in  conventional  garb,  enters 
from  the  dining-room.  As  he  goes  to  the  'phone 
KATRINE  steps  out  and  listens,  though  she  cannot  be 
seen  by  the  butler  because  of  the  intervening  stairs. 

JOHN 

(At  the  'phone) 

Hello?  .  .  .  This  is  John.  .  .  .  Beg  pardon,  Mr. 
Banning;  at  half-past  five?  .  .  .  (KATRINE  starts  and 
quickly  glances  at  the  clock.)  Very  good,  sir.  Early 
dinner  .  .  .  I'll  tell  cook  .  .  .  Yes,  sir  ...  Anne 
has  just  brought  Miss  Polly  in.  ...  She's  upstairs. 
.  .  .  Very  good,  sir. 

(JOHN  hangs  up  the  receiver.  He  is  about  to 
go  when  he  notices  a  draught  and  looks  at  the 
street  door,  which,  during  this,  has  blown  open. 
As  he  crosses  to  close  it  KATRINE  again  retreats 
out  of  sight.  JOHN  becomes  somewhat  sus 
picious,  but  closes  the  door  and  then  crosses  into 
the  dining-room.  KATRINE,  thinking  he  has 


POSSESSION 

gone,  comes  out  and  starts  quickly  toward  the 
stairs.  JOHN  steps  out,  also,  in  front  of  her. 
He  is  civil  but  suspicious  throughout.) 

JOHN 
I  beg  pardon.    Do  you  wish  to  see  Mr.  Banning? 

KATRINE 
You  don't  know  me? 

JOHN 
No,  ma'am. 

KATRINE 
Oh,  yes ;  you're  new  here. 

JOHN 
Some  months. 

KATRINE 
That  explains  it. 

JOHN 

(As  she  again  starts  to  go  up) 
I  beg  pardon;  perhaps  you've  got  the  wrong  house. 

KATRINE 
(Cynically) 
The  wrong  house? 

JOHN 

(Firmly) 
Mr.  Banning's  very  particular  and  I  must  be 


POSSESSION  7 

KATRINE 

(Realizing  his  suspicions) 
— careful  ?    Yes.    One  must  be  careful  these  days. 

JOHN 
Will  you  leave  a  card? 

KATRINE 
You  might  call  Anne. 

JOHN 
(Surprised) 
You  know  Anne? 

KATRINE 

(Pointing  to  the  push-button) 

Press  the  button  three  times.     It's  her  call,   I  be 
lieve.     Then  stay  here  till  she  comes. 

JOHN 

(Doing  so,  puzzled) 
I  beg  pardon  if  I've  made  a  mistake. 

KATRINE 

You  are  quite   right  to  be   careful — with   a  child 
upstairs. 

JOHN 
Thank  you. 


8  POSSESSION 

KATRINE 

I  forgot  I  was  a  stranger  here.  (She  begins  to  laugh 
nervously,  much  to  his  amazement.)  Me — a  stranger 
here! 

JOHN 
I  beg  pardon,  but 

KATRINE 
I  told  you,  you  did  quite  right. 

JOHN 

(Points  to   reception-room) 
Won't  you  wait  in  there? 

KATRINE 
(Abruptly) 
Is  that  clock  right? 

JOHN 
A  trifle  slow. 

KATRINE 
Oh,  yes;  it  never  was  on  time. 

(As  she  begins  laughing  again  nervously,  ANNE 
enters  in  back,  completely  astonished  on  seeing 
KATRINE. 

ANNE  is  about  sixty,  with  white  hair  and  a 
kind  face.  She  is  dressed  in  black  with  a  white 
frilled  cap.) 


POSSESSION  9 

ANNE 
Miss  Katie! 

KATRINE 
Anne. 

ANNE 
Oh,  good  Lord !    It's  Miss  Katie  herself ! 

KATRINE 
Mr.  Banning's  new  butler  thought  me  a  thief. 

ANNE 
A  thief? 

KATRINE 
Isn't  it  ridiculous? 

JOHN 

I  beg  pardon,  but  the  front  door  was  open  and  no 
one 

KATRINE 
(Impatiently) 
Tell  him,  Anne.     So  he'll  know  me  if  I  call  again. 

ANNE 
It's  Airs.  Banning! 

JOHN 

(Astonished) 

Mrs.  Banning!  Oh,  I  beg  pardon.  (Recovering 
himself.)  Mr.  Banning  will  be  here  himself  at  half- 
past  five. 


io  POSSESSION 

KATRINE 

(Glancing  at  the  clock) 
Yes,  I  know.     I  heard  you. 

(ANNE  motions  JOHN  to  go.  He  leaves 
quietly  in  back;  then  ANNE,  her  manner 
changed  to  one  of  extreme  solicitude,  goes  to 
KATRINE,  who  is  seated  on  the  chest  laughing 
nervously.) 

ANNE 
You'll  have  hysterics. 

KATRINE 
(Bitterly) 

Think  of  a  mother  having  to  steal  into  the  house 
to  see  her  own  child ! 

ANNE 
Hush!    Hush!    He  frightened  you. 

KATRINE 

(Controlling  herself) 

I   haven't   given   way   like   this  once — since   it   all 
happened. 

ANNE 

(Quieting  her  in  a  motherly  fashion) 
There  now,  Miss  Katie. 

KATRINE 
I'm  all  right  now. 


POSSESSION  ii 

ANNE 
Yes,   yes 

KATRINE 

I  thought  Polly  might  be  alone;  or  only  with  you. 
I  didn't  want  any  one  else  to  see  me.  I  had  my  old 
key.  She's  upstairs? 

ANNE 
(Hesitating) 
Yes. 

KATRINE 

(Looking  at  the  clock  again) 
Then  I  can  see  her,  before  Mr.  Banning  comes. 

ANNE 
( Glancing  quickly  up  toward  the  stairs,  fearing  POLLY 

may  hear) 
Is  it  best  to  see  her  now  ? 

KATRINE 

Anne!  She's  not  getting  used  to  my  being  away 
from  her? 

ANNE 

It  wasn't  easy  for  her  at  first;  but  Mr.  Banning  told 
her 

KATRINE 
(Sharply) 

What  did  he  tell  her?     Say  it,  Anne. 


12  POSSESSION 

ANNE 

That  you'd  gone  away  on  a  long  trip,  and  wouldn't 
be  back  for  a  long  time. 

KATRINE 
Did  he  say  anything  unkind  about  me  ? 

ANNE 
I  never  hear  him  speak  about  you. 

KATRINE 

Then  you  think  Polly  doesn't  know  what  has 
happened  ? 

ANNE 

Ah,  Miss  Katie ;  she's  not  old  enough  to  understand 
such  things. 

KATRINE 

(Starting  toward  the  stairs) 
I  must  go  to  her  if  only  for  a  few  moments. 

ANNE 

(Half  stopping1  her) 
Miss  Katie 

KATRINE 
You  stop  me,  too? 

ANNE 

It's  breaking  my  old  heart,  Miss  Katie,  to  see  you 
taking  on  like  this;  but  she'll  tell  Mr.  Banning  and 
he  gave  me  particular  orders 


POSSESSION  13 

KATRINE 
(Abruptly) 
To  shut  me  out? 

ANNE 

(Lowering  her  head) 
He  might   send  me  away. 

KATRINE 
Oh,  yes — yes. 

(She   sits  again,   slowly,   as    though    overcome 
with  perplexity.) 

ANNE 

Mr.  Banning  is  so  changeable-like  these  last  months. 
There's  no  telling  what  he'll  do. 

KATRINE 
She  mustn't  lose  you. 

ANNE 

He  says  she  needs  a  woman  about  and  that  he's 
trusting  her  to  me  now. 

KATRINE 

To  you?    Yes  (Half  breaking) — and  my  arms  are 
empty. 

ANNE 
He  never  smiles;  even  when  he's  loving  her. 


H  POSSESSION 

KATRINE 
He  loves  her?     Does  he  really  love  her? 

ANNE 
(Slowly) 

Yes.     If  you'll  pardon  me,  Miss  Katie,  it  seems  as 
though  you  both  love  her  more  since  this  took  place. 

KATRINE 

We  both  love  her:  yet  the  courts  gave  her  to  him. 
(Dully)  They  couldn't  understand. 

ANNE 

(With  a  sigh) 

If  people  don't  understand  us  and  they're  stronger, 
there's  nothing  to  do  but  give  in  to  them. 

KATRINE 

(Rising  impulsively} 
But  I  have  not  given  in! 

ANNE 
Don't  we  all  have  to  in  the  end  ? 

KATRINE 

(With  a  certain  imperative  firmness) 
No:  not  inside — not  in  our  hearts  and  souls.     I'm 
her  mother:  she's  my  girl.     I'm  wasting  time. 

ANNE 
You're  going  to  see  her? 


POSSESSION  15 

KATRINE 
Upstairs  or  here. 

ANNE 

But  if  Mr.  Banning  should  find  out? 

KATRINE 

He'll  never  know  I  saw  you.  You  \von't  be  blamed. 
Send  her  down  here  for  a  book  or  something.  Do 
as  I  tell  you.  (Clutching  ANNE'S  arm  fiercely.) 
Anne,  you've  known  me  ever  since  I  was  her  age.  Do 
you  think  I  am  not  even  fit  to  see  her? 

ANNE 

No,  no,  Miss  Katie.  Only  I  can't  believe  it's  all 
true — wrhen  everything  was  so  nice  and  comfortable 
here  for  you.  I  can't  believe  it's  true. 

(ANNE  goes  upstairs  shaking  her  head.) 

KATRINE 

(Half  to  herself,  surveying  the  room  slowly) 
Everything  so  nice  here!  (She  goes  quickly  to  the 
door,  after  glancing  at  the  clock  which  is  now  pointing 
to  five.)  A  half  hour.  (A  thought  strikes  her  and 
she  goes,  with  suppressed  excitement,  to  the  J 'phone.) 
Hello?  Plaza  4433.  (She  waits  nervously.)  Yes, 
Sheldon's?  .  .  .  Send  me  a  taxi  at  once.  .  .  .  Ban 
ning.  .  .  .  Yes  ...  34  Park.  ...  At  once  ...  I 
am  waiting. 

(As  she  is  'phoning,  POLLY  comes  slowly  down 
the  stairs,  not  knowing  who  is  talking.    Finally 


16  POSSESSION 

when  she  reaches  the  bottom  she  and  her  mother 
recognize  each  other.) 

KATRINE 
Polly! 

POLLY 

(Rushing  eagerly  to  her  arms) 
Mama!     Mama! 

(KATRINE  hugs  and  kisses  her  repeatedly  for 
some  moments  as  though  words  could  not  break 
through  her  inarticulate  emotion.) 

KATRINE 
Pally!     My  little  girl!  .   .   .  Dearest! 

POLLY 
You've  come  back  ? 

KATRINE 
Yes,  yes. 

POLLY 
I'm  so — so  glad !    Don't  cry,  mama. 

KATRINE 

I  can't  help  it,  dearest.     Ah,  you  look  so  well,  so 
pretty.    You've  grown,  my  darling 

POLLY 
I'm  so  glad  you're  home  again.     (KATRINE  looks 


POSSESSION  17 

down,  trying  to  keep  back  the  tears.)     Did  you  have 
a  nice  trip? 

KATRINE 
Oh! 

POLLY 
Where  have  you  been? 

KATRINE 

(Controlling  herself) 
I've  been  far  away.    Didn't  your  father  tell  you? 

POLLY 

Papa  said  he'd  tell  me  all  about  it  some  day.  But 
why  didn't  you  come  to  tell  me  about  it  before  you 
went  away  ?  And  you  didn't  kiss  me  good-by. 

KATRINE 
I  did  kiss  you  good-by,  child.    But  you  were  asleep. 

POLLY 
Why  didn't  you  wake  me  up? 

KATRINE 
It's  best  sometimes  not  to  waken  happy  children. 

POLLY 
But  you've  come  back  to  stay  with  us  now? 


18  POSSESSION 

KATRINE 
(Evasively) 
You've  missed  me? 

POLLY 
Yes.     I've  been  so  lonesome. 

KATRINE 
But  you  had  your  father. 

POLLY 

(With  childish  mirth) 

Oh,  yes;  and  he's  such  fun  these  days.  He  said  he 
must  be  papa  and  mama  to  me  while  you're  away. 
He  plays  with  me  every  time  I  ask  him  now.  He  was 
always  "  too  busy  "  before.  We  sailed  boats  in  the 
bath-tub  yesterday  and  he  got  his  coat  all  wet.  Will 
you  sail  boats  with  me? 

KATRINE 
Yes. 

POLLY 
Papa  says  he's  going  to  take  me  on  a  real  boat  soon. 

KATRINE 
A  real  boat? 

POLLY 
Yes.    A  boat  that  goes  over  the  ocean. 


POSSESSION  19 

KATRINE 
(Half  terrified) 
He's  going  to  take  you  over  the  ocean? 

POLLY 

Yes.  When  Spring  comes.  And  we're  going  to  stay 
a  long,  long  while.  I  told  Anne,  maybe  we  were  go 
ing  over  to  find  you.  But  now  you've  come  back,  we 
can  all  go  together.  (Happily)  Won't  it  be  fun? 

KATRIXE 
(Nonplussed) 
Next  month! 

POLLY 

I'm  getting  all  my  things.    Anne's  having  them  made 
for  me.     And  I've  got  a  red  hat  with  a  long  feather. 
Come,  see  it. 
( Taking  her  hand  and  trying  to  drag  her  to  the  stairs) 

KATRINE 

(Holding  her  close  again) 
He  sha'n't  take  you;  he  sha'n't. 

POLLY 
But,  mama,  I  want  to  go. 


KATRINE 
You  want  to  go? 


20  POSSESSION 

POLLY 

Oh !  it  will  be  so  wonderful.  Aren't  you  glad  we'll 
all  go  together? 

KATRINE 

(Drawing  her  close  with  suppressed  excitement) 
Polly,  you  do  love  me,  don't  you? 

POLLY 
Heaps  and  heaps. 

KATRINE 
But  you  love  me  more  than  any  one  else? 

POLLY 
More  than  any  one — except  papa  and  Anne. 

KATRINE 

(Impulsively} 

I  can't  let  you  go.  (Glancing  quickly  at  the  clock, 
which  has  moved  on.)  Polly!  Would  you  like  to 
take  a  ride  in  a  taxi  with  me?  Just  you  and  me?  So 
we  may  talk? 

POLLY 

Won't  you  wait  for  papa?  Then  we  can  go  in  his 
car.  He'll  be  so  glad  to  see  you. 

KATRINE 

But  I  want  a  long  talk  with  you  first.  Won't  you 
come? 


POSSESSION  21 

POLLY 
(Eagerly) 
I'll  ask  Anne  if  I  can  go. 

KATRINE 
(Hurt) 

There's  no  need  of  asking  Anne,  if  your  mother 
wants  you. 

POLLY 
(Hesitating) 

But  papa  said  I  must  always  ask  her.  He  says  there 
are  bad  people  about  who  want  to  steal  pretty  little 
girls  like  me. 

KATRINE 
(Coaxing  her) 

I  know.  But  this  will  be  a  secret,  a  secret  between 
you  and  me. 

POLLY 

(Entering  into  the  spirit  of  it) 
A  real  secret  for  nobody  but  us? 

KATRINE 
Yes. 

POLLY 
Goodie. 

KATRINE 

Get  your  coat — your  warm  coat.  And  don't  let 
Anne  see  you  or  she'll  guess  our  secret. 


22  POSSESSION 

POLLY 
My  coat  is  in  the  play-room,  Vay  upstairs. 

KATRINE 
Go  the  back  stairs.     Hurry.     It's  getting  late. 

POLLY 
It's   so   exciting. 

KATRINE 

(As  POLLY  comically  tiptoes  off  in  back  through  the 
dining-room  KATRINE  holds  her  arms  out  after  her) 

Dare   I?     You're  my  child,   too;   and   he's  taking 
you 

(As  BANNING  opens  the  door  and  enters  KA 
TRINE  turns.  He  throws  his  coat  and  hat  down 
on  the  chair.  They  eye  each  other:  he  in  quiet 
resentment  and  astonishment  at  her  presence; 
she  with  a  certain  subdued  nervousness  and 
fear,  lest  POLLY  should  immediately  return. 

HOWARD  BANNING  has  already  passed  forty, 
though  the  slight  tinge  of  gray  about  the  tem 
ples  and  the  lines  of  his  face,  deepened  as  they 
have  been  by  great  responsibilities,  suggest  he 
is  older.  His  physique,  however,  reveals  power 
controlled  by  a  will  which  is  indicated  in 
his  firmly  set  features.  His  manner  toward 
KATRINE  is  one  of  assumed  coldness,  though 
the  bitterness  and  attempted  consideration  be 
tray  deeply  stirred  feelings  underneath — feel- 


POSSESSION  23 

ings  which  always  sway  him  in  spite  of  his  severe 
schooling  in  life.) 

BANNING 

(Coldly) 
What  are  you  doing  here? 

KATRINE 

(Controlling  herself) 
I  came  to  see  Polly. 

BANNING 
The  courts  have  decided  that  question. 

KATRINE 
I  ask  five  minutes  alone  with  her. 

BANNING 

(Refusing  it) 
I  am  sorry. 

KATRINE 

Just  five  minutes.  (He  is  silent.)  She  was  born 
upstairs.  Doesn't  all  the  pain  I  went  through  entitle 
me  to  five  minutes— five  minutes  that  you'd  give  a 
stranger  who  wished  to  speak  to  her  on  the  streets? 

BANNING 
You  could  have  remained  something  else. 

KATRINE 
I'm  still  her  mother. 


24  POSSESSION 

BANNING 

You  have  forfeited  any  rights  here. 

KATRINE 
But  not  the  right  to  feel. 

BANNING 

That  is  your  punishment. 

KATRINE 
Oh,  yes:  you  still  believe  in  punishment. 

BANNING 

When  one  deserves  it. 

KATRINE 

(As  she  gazes  at  him  sadly) 
And  you  dared  to  judge  me! 

BANNING 
You  offered  no  defense  in  court. 


KATRINE 
Before  the  law?     No.     I  had  none  to  give — there. 

BANNING 

(Bitterly) 

You  were  her  mother.    You  should  have  thought  of 
the  consequences  before  you  and  Mace 


POSSESSION  25 

KATRINE 

(Quickly) 

But  it  was  not  the  mother  in  me  that  he  caught. 

BANNING 

(Sarcastically) 
No :  it  was  my  wife. 

KATRINE 
(Simply) 

In  her  loose  moments;  yes. 

BANNING 

Can  you  say  it  without  shame? 

KATRINE 
Yes:  I  have  understanding  of  myself  now. 

BANNING 

And  that  means  justification,  I  suppose? 

KATRINE 

I  said  understanding.  Can't  you  understand  my 
suffering  and  give  me  just  five  minutes  with  Polly? 

BANNING 

(Violently  clutching  her  arms) 

Katrine,  why  did  you  do  this  to  me?  (As  he  loses 
control  of  himself.)  Why  did  you  make  a  fool  of  me? 
Why  did  you  deceive  me?  Answer!  Katrine! 


26  POSSESSION 

KATRINE 
(Coldly) 

Please   take  your  hands  from  me.     You   forget   I 
am  no  longer  your  wife. 

(They  stare  at  each  other  a  moment:  then  his 
hands  slip  down  her  arms  and  he  turns  away. 
She  looks  at  him  and  then  nervously  toward 
the  dining-room  door  where  she  expects  POLLY. 
JOHN  enters  from  there  as  KATRINE  eyes 
him  with  quick  apprehension.) 

JOHN 
I  beg  pardon,  Mr.  Banning:  your  taxi  is  here. 

KATRINE 
(Involuntarily) 
Ah! 

BANNING 

A  taxi?    What  would  I  want  with  a  taxi? 

JOHN 
(Surprised) 
He  said  you  'phoned  you  were  in  a  hurry. 

BANNING 
I  didn't  order  any 

KATRINE 
/  ordered  it. 


POSSESSION  27 

BANNING 

( Without  suspicion ) 

Then  say  Mrs.  Banning  will  be  there  in  a  moment. 
(They  wait  till  JOHN  goes  out  through  the 
dining-room.  BANNING  steps  quietly  before 
KATRINE  as  she  now  makes  a  move  toward  the 
stairs. ) 
Do  you  completely  forget  what  has  happened? 

KATRINE 
Could  I  ? 

BANNING 

Then  does  your  "  understanding  "  include  me?     Do 
you  understand  what  you  did  to  me? 

KATRINE 
Yes,  yes. 

BANNING 
(Reproachfully.) 
You  deceived  me,  Katrine. 

KATRINE 

Let  me  go.    It  is  only  Polly's  mother  who  is  stand 
ing  here. 

BANNING 

(Stopping   her) 

You  should  not  have  forgotten  you  were  a  mother. 
(Firmly)   Now,    please    go.      I    don't    want    you    to 


28  POSSESSION 

see  her.  It's  not  easy,  I  know.  I'm  sorry.  But  you 
need  have  no  fear  for  Polly.  Since  she  can't  have  a 
mother,  she  will  have  everything 

KATRINE 

— everything  a  father  can  give.  I  had  all  a  husband 
could  give — at  least,  everything  he  thought  I  should 
have.  But  one  thing  was  wrong  from  the  start  be 
tween  us:  it's  why  I  am  afraid  to  have  her  grow  up 
here  alone  with  you  and  away  from  me. 

BANNING 
(Icily) 

And  what,  pray,  is  that? 

KATRINE 

It's  your  attitude  toward  women,   Howard.     You 
must  change  that  before  you  hurt  her,  as  you  did  me. 
(POLLY,  with  her  hat  and  coat  on,  comes  run 
ning  in  excitedly  from  the  dining-room.) 

POLLY 

I'm  ready,  mother.  Anne  didn't  hear  me.  (She 
sees  BANNING.)  Oh,  papa,  you've  come  home,  too. 

BANNING 

(Stunned) 
Then  you  have  seen  Polly? 

KATRINE 
(Hugging  POLLY) 
Yes. 


POSSESSION  29 

BANNING 

So! 

POLLY 
(Happily) 

Isn't  it  just  lovely,  papa,  to  have  mama  back  again 
to  stay  ?  I  told  him  that  you'd  come  back,  mama.  Oh, 
we  both  missed  her  so;  didn't  we,  papa? 

KATRINE 
Polly! 

POLLY 

It's  been  so  lonely  here  except  when  papa  plays 
with  me.  Oh,  I'm  so  happy  now.  (Kisses  her.) 
Aren't  you  happy,  papa,  that  mama's  come  home  ? 

BANNING 

Home!     You  see,  Katrine,  what  it  is? 

KATRINE 
But  you  at  least  have  had  her  all  this  time. 

POLLY 

(Whispering  to  her) 

Shall  we  tell  papa  our  secret  and  only  keep  it  from 
Anne? 

KATRINE 
[Silencing  her) 
Hush! 

(Pleading  with  BANNING,  who  gazes  at  them) 
Just  five  minutes  alone  with  her,  Howard. 

(There  is  a  tense  pause.     POLLY  looks  from 


30  POSSESSION 

one  to  the  other,  not  understanding.  Finally 
BANNING  seems  to  give  a  silent  consent.  He 
turns  to  go  up  the  stairs.) 

POLLY 
(Pouting) 
Can't  we  take  papa  along  in  the  taxi  with  us? 

BANNING 

(Turning  sharply) 
Katrine ! 

KATRINE 
(Defensively) 
The  child  meant 

BANNING 

( Taking  POLLY  quickly  from  her  mother) 
The  taxi.     I  see. 

KATRINE 

No! 

BANNING 

I  might  have  known ! 

KATRINE 
(Defiantly) 
Well,  why  not? 

BANNING 

Why  not?    Going  to  steal  her  away  from  me,  eh? 


POSSESSION  31 

KATRIXE 
She's  my  child,  too. 

(BANNING  laughs  harshly.) 

POLLY 

(As  she  looks  from  one  to  the  other  without  under 
standing) 

Why,  nobody's  going  to  steal  me,  papa.     I'm  only 
going  with  mama  for  a  ride. 

BANNING 

(Calling   up   the   stairs) 
Anne!    Anne!    Come  here! 

KATRINE 
(Appealingly) 
Howard ! 

POLLY 

What's  the  matter? 

BANNING 
(Brutally) 

Your  mother  has  no  right  to  be  here. 

KATRINE 
Let  me  tell  her ! 

BANNING 

Not  now. 


32  POSSESSION 

KATRINE 
(Distracted) 
Polly,  come  to  me,  dear. 

BANNING 

You  stay  here. 

(ANNE  enters  quickly  down  the  stairs,  and 
realizes  the  situation.  BANNING  immediately 
controls  himself  before  her.) 

BANNING 
Anne;  take  Polly  to  her  room. 

ANNE 
Yes,   sir. 

KATRINE 
(Poignantly) 
No,  no.     Anne,  Anne! 

POLLY 
I  don't  understand.  You  both  want  me  and 


BANNING 

Go  with  Anne,  Polly.     I  want  to  talk  with  your 
mother — alone. 

POLLY 
(Protesting) 
But,  papa 


POSSESSION  33 

BANNING 

That's  a  good  girl.     Now,  do  as  I  say. 

KATRINE 

(Desperately  throughout) 
Have  you  no  pity,  Howard? 

ANNE 

(Taking  POLLY'S  hand) 
Come,  dear. 

KATRINE 

My  arms   are   empty,    Howard — empty. 

POLLY 
Mama! 

BANNING 
Go  with  Anne 

KATRINE 

(Holding  out  her  arms) 
Polly!     Polly!     Polly! 

POLLY 

But,  Anne,  why  won't  papa  let  me ? 

(ANNE  gently  leads  the  bewildered  child  off. 
KATRINE  and  BANNING  both  look  after  POLLY. 
Then  KATRINE  sinks  on  one  of  the  chests, 
overcome.  He  turns  to  her,  bitterly.) 


34  POSSESSION 

BANNING 

You  tried  to  trick  me.     (She  does  not  answer  except 
with  a  sob.)     Katrine!    You  tried  to  trick  me! 

KATRINE 
Yes. 

BANNING 

To  steal  her  away. 

KATRINE 
(Pleading) 

Only  for  a  ride  with  me,  at  first.     But  when  she 
said  you  were  going  abroad  for  a  long  while 

BANNING 

Where  were  you  going  to  take  her? 

KATRINE 
Anywhere.     I   didn't   know. 

BANNING 

To  give  her  what? 

KATRINE 
A  mother's  love. 

BANNING 

Who  robbed  her  of  it? 

KATRINE 
I'm  here  to  give  it. 


POSSESSION  35 

BANNING 


And  what  else? 


KATRINE 
Protection,  support,  all. 

BANNING 

(With  a  harsh  laugh) 
You? 

KATRINE 
Yes:   if  you'll  let  me. 

BANNING 

Let  you?    And  how  are  you  going  to  do  it?    With 
Mace's  money? 

KATRINE 

(Her  whole  defensive  manner  changing  to  one  of  as 
sertion) 

With  my  own  money!     I'm  earning  it  now — work 
ing. 

BANNING 

Working? 

KATRINE 
Women  do,  you  know. 

BANNING 

(With  incredulous  sarcasm  throughout) 
You  earning  money? 


36  POSSESSION 

KATRINE 

(Abruptly  facing  him) 
How  did  you  think  I  would  live? 

BANNING 
/  offered  you  money. 

KATRINE 

Yes:  that  was  your  one  human  act  in  all  this!  But 
I  could  no  longer  give  you  anything  in  return.  Mace 
offered  me  money,  too.  I  had  nothing  further  to  give 
him.  There  seems  to  be  only  one  reason  women  think 
they  can  take  money  from  men. 

BANNING 
So  Mace  lets  you  work? 

KATRINE 
(Emphatically) 
He  has  nothing  to  do  with  my  actions. 

BANNING 

(Astonished) 
Then  you're  not  going  to  marry  him? 

KATRINE 
Why  should  I? 

BANNING 
For  the  sake  of  your  name — if  nothing  else. 


POSSESSION  37 

KATRINE 

Who  disgraced  my  name? 

BANNING 
Your  own  act. 

KATRINE 

Which  you  and  the  courts  spread  abroad.  But  does 
that  give  you  both  the  further  right  to  keep  my  child 
from  me? 

BANNING 

Since  you  forgot  what  you  owed  your  husband,  every 
right. 

KATRINE 

What  has  her  future  to  do  with  what  I  owed  you? 
You  divorced  me,  didn't  you?  The  law  no  longer  com 
pels  you  to  support  me,  does  it?  I  have  paid  the  social 
penalty,  haven't  I?  What  further  do  I  owe  you? 

BANNING 

You  owe  it  to  me  to  leave  my  daughter  alone,  so 
that  she  will  forget  you  as  I  want  to. 

KATRINE 
But  my  child  loves  me. 


BANNING 

Children  forget — like  some  women. 


38  POSSESSION 

KATRINE 
(Quickly) 

And  I  should  want  her  to  forget  me  if  I  were  still 
what  I  was  when  I  lived  here  with  you.  But  I'll  never 
let  her  forget  me  now — for  now  I  can  be  a  good  mother 
to  her. 

BANNING 

You're  absurd — laughable !  As  if  a  woman  like  you 
could  be  a  good  mother  after  what  has  happened. 

KATRINE 
I  can  because  of  what  has  happened. 

BANNING 
It  was  all  of  your  own  making. 

KATRINE 
(With    directness) 

Are  you  so  sure  ?  Have  you  ever  asked  yourself  in 
side  whether  it  was  all  my  fault?  Have  you,  Howard? 

BANNING 

There's  nothing  to  argue.  I  only  know  one  miser 
able,  rotten  fact:  the  one  fact  a  man  never  forgets. 

.  ,  KATRINE 

S)    Which  thousands  of  women   accept  and   forget  in 
1  taien !     (He  dismisses  it.)     A  mother  has  her  great  fact, 

too:  that  she  bore  her  child!     Has  any  man  ever  the 

right  to  forget  that? 


POSSESSION  39 

BANNING 

That  doesn't  excuse  what  you  did  to  me. 

KATRINE 
No.    If  my  fidelity  was  all  you  prized  me  for. 

BANNING 
(With  feeling} 
You  think  that  was  all  I ? 

KATRINE 

It  was  all  you  considered  when  the  test  came.  You 
thought  of  nothing  else.  You  turned  me  out  without 
a  word.  You  didn't  even  ask  for  an  explanation. 

BANNING 
(Bitterly) 
What   could   you  have   explained? 

KATRINE 

Nothing  then,  perhaps — that's  why  I  didn't  try. 
For  then  I  didn't  know  myself. 

BANNING 

But  you  did  know  I  had  given  you  everything. 

KATRINE 

For  teas  and  Tangoes  and  Bridge  and  pretty  gowrns 
and  jewels,  yes.  But  what  did  you  give  me  for  my 
self? 


40  POSSESSION 

BANNING 

(Not   understanding) 
Yourself? 

KATRINE 
Yes,  for  me — me!    To  do  with  as  /  saw  fit. 


BANNING 

I  gave  you  what  every  man  in  my  position  wants  to 
give  his  wife:  leisure;  comfort  and  leisure. 

KATRINE 

Yes.  And  it  was  leisure  which  ruined  our  life  to 
gether. 

BANNING 

(Laughing  cynically) 
A  woman  ruined  by  leisure ! 

KATRINE 

Leisure!  Leisure!  Not  leisure  to  use  as  I  wished, 
to  use  in  something  I  thought  worth  while,  in  some 
thing  which  differed  from  your  way  of  looking  at 
life.  But  leisure  with  you  always  watching  it,  curb 
ing  it. 

BANNING 

Do  you  think  I  had  time  to  bother  about  how  you 
spent  your  days  ? 


POSSESSION  41 

KATRINE 

(As  he  walks  up  and  down  impatiently) 
You  always  questioned  me.  You  always  disap 
proved  of  my  actions  if  they  differed  from  those  of  our 
idle  women  friends.  You  knew  exactly  what  I  should 
and  should  not  do.  I  mustn't  do  this  or  that,  for  fear 
people  would  talk.  Why,  do  you  remember  how 
you  stormed  because  I  happened  to  contribute  to  those 
poor  garment  strikers  the  money  you  had  given  me  to 
waste  on  Bridge? 

BANNING 

(Denying  her  words  throughout) 
I  told  you   then   I  couldn't  have  my  name  in  the 
newspapers  mixed  up  with  that  damn  radical  stuff. 

KATRINE 

That's  it.  Your  name!  Now  we  have  it.  (He 
faces  her.)  That's  always  what  I  had  to  consider. 

BANNING 

You  were  my  wife.  It  was  your  business  to  con 
sider  me. 

KATRINE 

But  did  I  have  to  make  everybody  think  I  believed 
the  same  as  you  ?  Did  I  have  to  make  all  my  opinions 
only  pale  reflections  of  yours?  Couldn't  I  be  myself 
in  what  I  was  trying  to  do  to  escape  my  boredom 
here,  without  fearing  everybody  would  criticise  you? 
Couldn't  I  do  or  say  anything  for  myself  because  I 
bore  your  name? 


42  POSSESSION 

BANNING 

(Sarcastically) 

And  I  suppose  that  was  the  reason  you  forgot  your 
home? 

KATRINE 
With  servants  to  run  it. 

BANNING 

You  had  your  child. 

KATRINE 

Which  you  insisted  our  nurses  should  bring  up. 
You  didn't  even  want  me  to  nurse  my  own  child  be 
cause  it  interfered  with — (suddenly)  Why,  How 
ard,  now  that  I  think  of  it,  you  didn't  even  ask  me 
if  I  wanted  to  have  a  child. 

BANNING 
(Recoiling  and  staring  at  her  as  though  he  could  not 

grasp  how  much  she  has  changed) 
Katrine ! 

KATRINE 

And  what  did  I  know  of  these  matters  when  you 
brought  me  here?  I  didn't  know  anything  of  chil 
dren.  I  didn't  know  anything  of  their  health  or  care 
or  education.  Nothing.  Yet  I  found  myself  a  mother. 
The  greatest  thing  in  life.  Yet  I  was  unprepared, 
ignorant.  And  when  I  tried  to  reach  out  and  learn, 
when  I  wanted  instruction  and  help,  when  I  felt  I 


POSSESSION  43 

simply  had  to  be  something  myself  before  I  could  be 
anything  to  her — you  laughed  at  me.  (He  protests) 
Oh,  you  meant  it  in  kindness:  you  meant  it  all  in  kind 
ness:  that's  what  is  so  tragic! 

BANNING 

(With  icy  incredulity) 
And  you  think  now  I  should  let  you  have  Polly? 

KATRINE 

Yes ;  because  I  love  her  more  than  ever  now,  and  be 
cause  now  I  am  free  to  learn.  (Pleading  suddenly 
again)  Polly  is  only  a  girl,  Howard;  she'll  be  a 
woman  soon.  My  heart's  longing  for  her  as  she  grows 
up,  so  she  won't  make  my  mistakes,  be  ignorant  as  I 
was  when  I  married.  For  there  are  facts  about  men 
and  women  you  never  could  tell  her  with  your  way 
of  thinking  about  women.  Howard,  let  me  be  part  of 
her  life  every  day  as  she  grows  into  womanhood. 

BANNING 

(Still  gazing  at  her  incredulously) 
But  you  don't  seem  to  realize  what  you  are! 

KATRINE 

Yes,  I  do.  But  what  was  I?  Do  you  realize 
that?  (He  is  silent.)  What  was  there  for  me,  here? 
A  few  hours  with  you.  What  for  ?  Theaters,  opera — 
(With  sincerity)  Howard,  \vhat  was  my  life  here? 

BANNING 

Just  what  you  made  it. 


44  POSSESSION 

KATRINE 

What  you  made  me  make  it :  an  empty  shell  of  a  life 
on  silk  cushions,  bored — bored,  depressed,  careless,  and 
useless.  You  gave  me  leisure  and  I  made  the  most 
of  it. 

BANNING 
With  Mace! 

KATRINE 
(  Wearily  ) 
Oh;  it  might  have  been  anybody. 

BANNING 

(With  bitterness) 

And  you  think  a  woman  who  can  say  that  is  fit  to 
bring  up  a  young  girl  ? 

KATRINE 

(Persuasively,  with  deep  feeling) 
Why  not?  Because  I'm  not  full  of  remorse,  weep 
ing  away  what  little  strength  I  have  in  regrets?  Be 
cause  I'm  looking  forward,  not  back?  Because  I'm 
using  what  happened  in  the  past  to  lead  my  future  into 
something  better?  Has  my  one  fault — miserable,  des 
picable,  anything  the  world  may  call  it — has  it  torn 
out  my  mother's  heart?  Haven't  you  seen  it  breaking 
here?  Do  you  think  I'd  have  come  back  here  after  all 
you  put  me  through,  if  my  motherhood  weren't  still 
alive?  Can  your  courts  and  your  laws  and  all  the 
sins  of  the  world  stamp  out  that  feeling?  Can  you 
crush  out  all  the  good  in  me,  because  I've  been  guilty 
of  my  one  wrong  to  you?  Can  you  judge  me  as  I 


POSSESSION  45 

stand  here,  with  my  eyes  open  to  life  for  the  first  time, 
by  that — only  that — and  nothing  else? 

BANNING 

(Who  has  been  moved  by  her  words) 
God,  Katrine!     Don't  I  know  you  love  our  child! 

KATRINE 
Then  let  me  have  her. 

BANNING 

You  love  her:  but  so  do  I. 

KATRINE 
I  know:   I  know. 

BANNING 

(Poignantly) 

If — if  it  were  only  to  somebody  else  you  were  plead 
ing!  But  you  wronged  me — me.  Your  husband!  I 
can't  get  that  out  of  the  way.  I  can't  forget  it. — 
You're  pleading  for  yourself.  But  what  about  me? 
Because  you  want  her,  does  that  bring  back  the  home 
that  is  broken  up? 

KATRINE 
Was  it  a  home? 

BANNING 

Must  /  lose  her,  too,  because  you're  a  woman  ?  Are 
you  going  to  play  on  that  weakness  to  gain  your  end  ? 


46  POSSESSION 

KATRINE 
We  fight  with  what  weapons  you  men  leave  us. 

BANNING 

You  deceived  me.  You  steal  into  the  house  now  like 
a  thief.  You  try  to  trick  me:  yet  you  stand  there 
justifying  yourself  and  your  rotten  wrong  to  me,  be 
cause  you  bore  her.  Can't  a  man  love  his  child,  too? 

KATRINE 
Doesn't  that  make  you  understand  my  love? 

BANNING 

(Bitterly   throughout) 

But  why  should  I  give  her  up?  Why  should  I 
let  her  go  with  you?  What  about  me?  What  is 
there  here  for  me?  She's  all  there  is  now.  Am  I 
going  to  let  you  push  me  aside  because  you're  a 
mother?  Any  woman  can  be  a  mother!  You  talk  as 
though  it  was  something  unusual.  You  think  you  bear 
the  whole  responsibilities  of  a  child.  You  think  the 
father's  just  a — — .  Why  should  I  pay  for  all  the 
wreckage  that  you  brought  about  just  because  Nature 
happened  to  make  you  as  it  did  ? 

KATRINE 
Am  I  not  paying  it,  too? 

BANNING 

(Persistently) 

But  how  are  you  going  to  square  the  account  with 
me? 


POSSESSION  47 

KATRINE 
Was  I  alone  to  blame  for  our  failure? 

BANNING 

Answer  me. 

KATRINE 
(Insistingly) 

Was  all  the  fault  mine  ? 

BANNING 

You're  evading  my  question. 

KATRINE 
I  want  your  answer. 

BANNING 

( Trying  to  put  conviction  in  his  words) 
Yes;  the  fault  was  all  yours. 

KATRINE 

Howard!  If  I'd  been  happy  here,  would  we  have 
gone  on  the  rocks?  Could  any  woman  have  come  to 
this  alone? 

BANNING 
If  you'd  been  a  stronger  woman 

KATRINE 
(Quickly) 

Grant  my  weakness,  then;  grant  everything  I  was. 
Shouldn't  you  have  helped  me  and  strengthened  me? 


48  POSSESSION 

BANNING 
(Confused) 
But 

KATRINE 
(Searchingly) 
Howard !    Howard !    Was  all  the  fault  mine  ? 

BANNING 

(He  is  halted  by  her  tone:  he  seems  to  question  him 
self  for  a  moment,  then  he  waves  it  aside) 
What  difference  does  it  make  who's  to  blame  when 
a  thing's  done  ?    Why  talk  of  blame  at  this  late  day,  in 
the  face  of  all  this  wreckage  and  waste? 

KATRINE 
(Quickly) 

Wreckage — yes;  but  whether  it  is  to  be  waste  or 
not  rests  with  us.  (He  looks  at  her.)  Howard,  there 
is  good  in  this — if  only  you  will  see  it. 

BANNING 
Good?     Here  in  this  empty  house? 

KATRINE 
Yes;  for  you  and  me. 

BANNING 

There  can  be  nothing  between  you  and  me. 

KATRINE 
There  is  always  Polly! 


POSSESSION  49 

BANNING 

Polly! 

KATRINE 

Look  how  much  more  we  both  have  to  give  her 
now? 

BANNING 

Living  apart? 

KATRINE 
(With   vision) 

Yes:  even  that  way.  It's  not  as  it  should  be,  \of 
course:  but  we  must  build  out  of  the  wreckage  as 
best  we  may;  and  you  and  I  have  built  better  apart 
than  we  did  together.  Don't  you  see  how  we  can  go 
on  building  for  Polly?  That's  where  she,  too,  will 
gain  by  all  this — if  we  wish  it. 

BANNING 
(Wearily) 

I  can  see  no  gain. 

KATRINE 

But  you  can  see  what  you  call  my  sin  has  not  broken 
me:  you  can  see  I've  grown  really  to  love  her  through 
my  need,  through  my  anxiety  for  her  future,  through 
everything.  Isn't  Anne  right?  Haven't  we  both 
grown  to  love  Polly  more  since  this  happened  ? 

BANNING 

Anne  dared? 


50  POSSESSION 

KATRINE 

But  isn't  she  right  ?  Was  either  of  us  a  good  parent 
before?  What  was  there  in  our  lives  worth  handing 
on  to  Polly?  (He  starts  to  answer.)  What?  Here 
we  were:  two  people:  you  with  your  money-making 
and  me  with  my  leisure.  Did  either  of  us  give  her 
love? 

BANNING 

What  /  gave  was  love. 

A  KATRINE 

brfce-  it  is   now?  (Smiling.)      Now   you   play   at 

sailing  boats  in  the  bath-tub — and  you  got  your  coat 
wet! 


BANNING 

(Moved) 
She  told  you  that? 

KATRINE 

Yes.     You  never  played   with  her  before.     Polly 
noticed  it. 

BANNING 

(Almost  inaudibly) 
Poor  little  kid. 

KATRINE 

Howard,   that  is  the  good  in   all  this,   if  we  will 
admit  it.     Her  love  didn't  hold  either  of  us  to  very 


POSSESSION  51 

much  before — did  it?  And  now  we  are  both  stronger 
through  our  suffering.  Yes;  better  for  ourselves — and 
Polly.  (She  comes  close  to  him.)  Our  marriage  is 
over.  It  was  a  failure.  But  we're  still  her  father  and 
mother.  Must  we  be  enemies  fighting  over  the  pos 
session  of  our  child  ?  Can't  we  be  friends  for  her  sake  ? 

BANNING 

Friends?  You  and  me?  With  this  wrong  between 
us? 

KATRINE 

The  wrong  was  between  husband  and  wife.  Polly 
stands  between  father  and  mother.  That's  all  we  are 
now,  Howard.  Father  and  mother!  She's  our  child: 
born  of  you  and  me.  She  loves  us  both.  Can't  we 
both  have  her  till  she  grows  up  and  leaves  us — as 
children  do? 

BANNING 

Father  and  mother! 

(BANNING  rises  after  a  long  pause.  He  has 
been  deeply  moved,  yet  he  hesitates.  Then  he 
looks  at  her  as  she  stands  there  watching  him 
with  a  calm  serenity.  He  moves  slowly  to  the 
foot  of  the  stairs.  There  is  a  silence.) 

BANNING 

( Calling) 
Polly!    Polly! 


Yes,  papa. 
Come  here. 
In  a  minute. 
Howard  ? 


POSSESSION 

POLLY 
( Upstairs) 


BANNING 


POLLY 


KATRINE 


BANNING 

(Turning  to  her  quietly) 
Was  I  nothing  in  your  life? 


KATRINE 


Oh,  yes:  Howard. 


BANNING 
Then  why  did  it  all  happen? 

KATRINE 

Maybe  you  came  into  my  life  too  early  to  stay  all 
through.     I  was  a  girl.     How  could  I  know? 

BANNING 

(Lowering  his  head) 
I  thought  I  was  a  good  husband,  as  men  go. 


POSSESSION  53 

KATRINE 

You  would  have  made  some  woman  very  happy.  I 
suppose  down  deep,  Howard,  I  didn't  only  want  to  be 
taken  care  of  like  lots  of  women  we  know. 

BANNING 

Maybe  it's  an  old,  old  story,  after  all. 

KATRINE 
Yes:  the  world  is  full  of  old  stories. 

BANNING 

(With  difficulty} 
I  love  Polly,  Katrine;  but 

KATRINE 
You  think  I  have  some  claim? 

BANNING 
We  will  let  Polly  decide  which  one  she  will  go  with. 

KATRINE 
(Quickly) 
No! 

BANNING 
Are  you  afraid? 

KATRINE 

It  would   be  cruel  of  us  to  shift  the  decision  on 
her. 


54  POSSESSION 

BANNING 

But  it's  her  life. 

KATRINE 
Suppose  she  chooses  me? 

BANNING 

I'm  willing  to  take  that  risk. 

KATRINE 
(Startled) 
You  think  she  might  not  come  with  me? 

BANNING 

That's  what  we  must  find  out.     (Calling.)     Polly! 

KATRINE 

Oh,  you'd  let  me  see  her,  wouldn't  you  ?  You'd  let 
me  hold  her  in  my  arms? 

BANNING 
And  if  she  went  with  you? 

KATRINE 

I  should  always  want  her  to  hold  her  father's  hand. 
I  don't  want  her  to  lose  either  of  us.  All  I  ask  is  to 
let  me  see  her  now  and  then;  let  me  have  her  part  of 
the  time. 

BANNING 

It  can't  be  that  way.     She — she  must  decide! 


POSSESSION  55 

KATRINE 

No,  no!  My  love  is  greater  than  that.  You've 
broken  me,  Howard.  Rather  than  submit  her  to  that,  I 
give  in.  You  have  the  power  here.  The  courts  have 
given  her  to  you.  And  we've  got  to  submit,  as  Anne 
says,  if  the  stronger  can't  understand  us.  Do  what 
your  heart  says,  Howard.  I  only  ask  you  to  be  bigger 
than  the  law. 

(POLLY  comes  down  the  steps  slowly  and 
stands  there  puzzled  for  a  moment,  between  the 
two,  who  gaze  at  her.  Then  she  goes  quietly  to 
BANNING.) 

POLLY 

You  called  me,  papa? 

BANNING 

(With  an  effort  throughout  as  he  strokes  her  hair  and 

holds  her  hand) 

Your  mother  has  come  back  from  a  long  journey 
and — she  wants  you  to  go  with  her. 

POLLY 
Hasn't  mama  come  back  home  for  good? 

BANNING 

Polly,  it's  this  way;  I 

KATRINE 
I'll  tell  her,  Howard. 


56  POSSESSION 

BANNING 

I  couldn't  tell  her  everything. 

KATRINE 

(Calmly) 

She  shall  know  everything  in  time.    And  I  shall  be 
fair  to  you. 

POLLY 
(Puzzled) 

Papa,  I  wish  you'd  tell  me  what  it  means. 

BANNING 

(Half  breaking,  as  he  sits  with  his  face  buried  in  his 

hands) 
I  don't  know  what  it  means — I  don't  know. 

POLLY 
Do  you,  mama? 

KATRINE 

Sometimes  I  know.     But  not  for  very  long,  dear. 
(KATRINE  crosses  to  BANNING  and  puts  her 
hand  tenderly  on  his  shoulder,  but  he  rises  and 
moves  away  from  her  gently  as  she  withdraws 
her  hand.) 

BANNING 

(Recovering  his  self-possession) 
To-morrow  your  mother  will  come  to  you,  Polly, 
and  you're  to  go  with  her  for  a  while. 


POSSESSION  57 

KATRINE 
(Overwhelmed) 
Howard ! 

POLLY 
Am  I  going  to  live  in  two  places? 

KATRINE 
(Hugging  her) 
Yes;  in  both  our  hearts. 

(BANNING  has  pressed  the  push-button.  JOHN 
enters  from  back.) 

BANNING 

Is  the  taxi  there? 

JOHN 
Yes,  sir. 

BANNING 
Mrs.  Banning  is  ready  now. 

(JOHN  crosses  to  door  which  he  opens,  and 
stands  there  waiting.  KATRINE  looks  at  BAN 
NING  as  his  back  is  turned.  Then  she  kisses 
POLLY.) 

KATRINE 
To-morrow,  Polly. 

(KATRINE  goes  to  the  chest  on  which  she  has 
left  her  bag,  containing  the  door-key.  She 
takes  this,  decides  to  keep  the  key,  turns  and 


58  POSSESSION 

looks  back  at  BANNING,  who  is  now  facing 

her.) 

Thank  you,  Howard.  (She  hesitates,  tries  to  say  some 
thing'  but  sees  the  futility)  Good-by.  We  may  need  to 
talk  to  each  other  again. 

BANNING 

About  what? 

KATRINE 
About  Polly. 

(KATRINE  goes  out.  JOHN  closes  the  door  and 
goes  off  in  back.  BANNING  sinks  into  the  chair 
again,  staring  before  him.) 

POLLY 
Papa;  why  must  I  live  in  two  places? 

(She  goes  to  him  but  he  does  not  answer.) 

[THE  CURTAIN  FALLS] 


THE  GROOVE 


THE  PEOPLE 

SARAH  GREENWELL 
CONSTANCE,  her  younger  sister 

SCENE 

A   bedroom  at  the  Greenwells'  cottage  in  a  small 
village,  late  one  June  night. 


THE  GROOVE* 

jf  COZY  bedroom  in  a  little  cottage  is  disclosed. 
/]  It  is  quaintly  furnished.  An  old  wooden  bed  is 
-^  -*-  at  the  left  projecting  from  the  wall:  directly 
against  the  opposite  wall  is  a  small  dressing-table  with  a 
dainty  flowered  covering.  Above  this  hangs  a  mirror 
reflecting  the  two  candles  now  lighted,  which  are  rest 
ing  amidst  the  toilet  articles.  Beyond  this  there  is  a 
broad  window  through  which  the  moonlight  is  now 
streaming.  In  back  a  doorway  opens  into  another 
room.  At  the  foot  of  the  bed  is  a  steamer-trunk  full 
of  clothes,  with  its  lid  open.  On  the  other  side  of  the 
bed  in  back  is  a  large  wardrobe.  There  are  some 
chairs,  a  what-not,  and  several  old-fashioned  pictures 
on  the  quietly  papered  walls;  but  the  room  is  otherwise 
scantily  furnished.  It  has,  however,  the  air  of  unpre 
tentious  comfort. 

CONSTANCE  is  alone.  She  is  about  twenty-two,  with 
abundant  beauty  and  an  entrancing  charm.  She  is 
full  of  vitality,  flexible  in  mood,  with  the  occasional 
authority  of  approaching  womanhood;  but  she  is  es 
sentially  youth — with  its  mingling  of  unconscious  self 
ishness  and  spasmodic  consideration. 

She  has  just  put  on  her  kimono  over  her  night-gown. 
As  she  hums  happily  she  takes  down  her  hair.  She 

*  Copyright,    1914,  by  George  Middleton.      All  rights  reserved. 


62  THE  GROOVE 

stops,  after  a  moment,  puts  her  bare  feet  into  her  pretty 
tuffed  slippers,  goes  to  the  trunk,  lifts  the  tray  and  takes 
out  a  daintily  framed  photograph.  Looking  at  it  half 
dreamily  she  slowly  crosses  to  the  dressing-table,  plac 
ing  it  between  the  two  candles,  whose  light  reveals 
the  photograph  of  a  young  man.  She  kisses  it  but 
turns  its  face  down  quickly  so  it  can't  be  seen  as  she 
hears  the  door  in  back  open.  SARAH,  her  sister,  enters. 

SARAH  is  ten  years  older:  very  plain  so  far  as  ex 
ternals  go;  rather  a  quiet  personality,  in  fact,  though 
colored  subtly  by  her  humor  and  generous  sympathies. 
Her  hair  is  down  in  long  braids  and  she,  too,  wears  her 
kimono  and  bedroom  slippers. 

Throughout  there  is  a  sense  of  deep  personal  in 
timacy  brooding  over  the  two  as  they  talk  with  subdued 
voices,  fearing  to  disturb  their  mother  in  the  next  room. 

SARAH 

(Softly  closing  the  door) 
Mother's  asleep  now. 

CONSTANCE 
I  thought  you  were  never  coming. 

SARAH 

It's  been  such  an  exciting  day  for  her:  having  you 
come  home  and  all.  (Going  to  her.)  You  must  be 
tired,  too. 

CONSTANCE 

(Feeling  the  back  of  her  head) 
I  am.     I'm  all  in  a  knot  back  here. 


THE  GROOVE  63 

SARAH 


Let  me  rub  it. 


CONSTANCE 

(As  SARAH  rubs  her  neck) 

Urn!     I  could  purr  like  a  pussy  cat.     What  won 
derful  fingers  you  have,  sister ! 

SARAH 

I  do  this  to  mother  every  time  she  has  one  of  her  bad 
headaches.    She's  grown  to  depend  on  it. 

""^  CONSTANCE 

/Dear  little  mother. 

X/ 

SARAH 

(Slipping  her  arms  close  down  and  kissing  her) 
Dear  little  sister.     } 

CONSTANCE 
I've  looked  forward  so  to  this  hour  alone  with  you. 

SARAH 
We  haven't  had  many  these  last  four  years,  have  we  ? 

CONSTANCE 

No.      (4s    SARAH    stops    rubbing    and    turns    her 
around.)     That's  so  idaxing.  - 

SARAH 
Let  me  look  at  you,  dear. 


64  THE  GROOVE 

CONSTANCE 

(Playfully  taking  hold  of  Sarah's  braids) 
Wouldn't  it  be  lovely  if  we  could  always  wear  our 
hair  down  like  this? 

SARAH 
Why? 

CONSTANCE 
We  both  look  so  much  prettier. 

SARAH 
I  didn't  know  I  could  be  improved  upon. 

CONSTANCE 
Oh,  yes,  you  can.    (They  both  laugh.)     I  mean 

SARAH 

All  the  good  looks  went  to  you,  didn't  they?  (CON 
STANCE  smiles.)  Mother  says  John  would  have  been 
a  handsome  man  if  he'd  lived. 

CONSTANCE 
I  should  like  to  have  had  a  real  brother. 

SARAH 
Instead  of  so  many  volunteers? 

CONSTANCE 
Well,  I  couldn't  help  it  if  the  boys  liked  me. 


THE  GROOVE  65 

SARAH 
Of  course  not.    You  are  all  unpacked  ? 

(SARAH  goes  to  trunk  and  unpacks  it  during 
this,  hanging  the  things  at  intervals  in  the 
wardrobe.  CONSTANCE  combs  and  braids  her 
hair. ) 

CONSTANCE 
Now,  don't  you  worry  about  that  trunk. 

SARAH 

But  your  pretty  dresses  will  all  get  wrinkled. 

CONSTANCE 
(Playfully) 

You  are  beginning  to  take  charge  of  me  again. 

SARAH 
You  see  I  haven't  changed  since  you  last  saw  me. 

CONSTANCE 
A  year  can't  change  a  fellow  much. 

SARAH 
It's  made  you  more  beautiful,  Con. 

CONSTANCE 
(Glancing  covertly  toward  the  photograph) 

That's  because 

SARAH 

Because  you're  a  w^oman  now.     My  little  sister's  a 
woman ! 


66  THE  GROOVE 

CONSTANCE 
(Thoughtfully) 

Yes;  in  some  ways  only — only — I  haven't  entirely 
said  good-by  to  the  little  sister.  (Impulsively)  Is 
everything  the  same  here? 

SARAH  ,      f\d[ 

Just  the  same.  (Holding  up  a  skirt. )(  Goodness, 
that  needs  a  new  braid. ] 

(CONSTANCE  pays  no  attention  to  the  clothes 
as  she  ties  small  pink  ribbons  to  her  braids,  look 
ing  now  and  then  in  the  mirror.) 

CONSTANCE 
Mother's  well,  isn't  she? 

SARAH 
Yes;  she  sleeps  so  much  better,  too. 

CONSTANCE 
What  does  she  do  all  day? 

SARAH 
Oh,  the  days  pass  somehow. 

CONSTANCE 
Does  she  still  keep  up  her  church  work  ? 

SARAH 
That's  the  only  social  life  we  have  here. 


THE  GROOVE  67 

CONSTANCE 
Any  other  excitement  in  the  village? 

SARAH 
We've  got  a  new  minister. 

CONSTANCE 
Good  looking? 

SARAH 
Yes,  but  fifty. 

CONSTANCE 

Interesting? 

SARAH 
Mother  likes  him. 

CONSTANCE 

(Turning  abruptly  to  SARAH) 
Sister,  you've  had  awful  tough  luck  with  men. 

SARAH 

(Laughing  and  taking  it  good-naturedly  throughout) 
Absent  treatment,  you  mean? 

CONSTANCE 
Don't  you  find  it  terribly  unsatisfactory? 

(SARAH  waves  it  aside,  but  CONSTANCE  per 
sists  with  a  certain  hidden  curiosity.) 
Sarah,  haven't  you  ever  thought  of  getting  married  ? 


68  THE  GROOVE 

SARAH 
I've  got  imagination,  Con,  and  lots  of  time  to  think. 

CONSTANCE 
Well,  why  don't  you  get  married? 

SARAH 
( Casually  ) 

For  the  simplest  reason  in  the  world:  nobody  has 
asked  me. 

CONSTANCE 
Have  you  encouraged  them? 

SARAH 
(Simply) 
Nobody's  ever  been  in  love  with  me,  Con. 

CONSTANCE 
Haven't  you  ever  been  in  love,  either? 

SARAH 

No. 

CONSTANCE 
(Amazed) 
And  you  don't  seem  a  bit  sorry? 

SARAH 

I  hate  people  who  pity  themselves.     Maybe  I'm  not 
the  marrying  sort. 


THE  GROOVE  69 

CONSTANCE 

You'd  make  the  best  wife  in  the  world.     You  love 
to   take  care  of  people. 

SARAH 
(Smiling) 

Is  that  all  a  wife's  for? 

CONSTANCE 
(Wisely) 

Lots   of   men   seem    to   think  so.      (With   a  sigh) 
Maybe  you're  too  good  to  be  married. 

SARAH 

(Coming  to  her  and  tweaking  her  good-naturedly) 
Maybe  the  reason  I've  had  no  chance  to  marry  is 
because  I  have  such  an  attractive  little  sister. 

CONSTANCE 
(Mischievously ) 

Did  you  send  me  away  to  college  to  avoid  the  com 
petition? 

SARAH 
I  didn't  succeed  very  well,  did  I? 

CONSTANCE 
(Seriously) 

Sarah,  don't  you  ever  get  tired  of  it  here?     Don't 
you  ever  feel  like  some  excitement? 


70  THE  GROOVE 

SARAH 
(Evasively) 

You  forget  we  have  a  new  minister. 

CONSTANCE 

Oh,  be  serious,  sister.  You're  in  outrageously  good 
spirits  to-night.  You're  jesting  about  the  most  sacred 
matters.  (With  enthusiasm)  Don't  you  ever  want 
something  thrilling  to  happen,  something  that  gives 
you  a  prickly  sensation  right  down  to  the  toes? 

SARAH 
That's  why  I  am  so  happy  to-night. 

(After   a    moment's    instinctive    hesitation,    as 
CONSTANCE    leans   forward,    waiting    eagerly, 
SARAH  steps  towards  her  mother  s  door,  listens, 
and  then  comes  close  to  her  sister.) 
What  would  you  say  if  I  told  you  7  am  going  to  have 
an  adventure? 

CONSTANCE 

Who  is  he? 

SARAH 
It  isn't  a  man :  it's  a  trip. 

.  «s» . .  „«•  *..>".%     (  •• :"~-  -  $  JL-1* 
CONSTANCE 

A  trip?  Go  on,  I'm  crazy  to  know.  (Shaking 
her.)  Go  on — go  on. 

SARAH 
IVe  made  all  the  preparations.     I've  told  no  one. 


THE  GROOVE  71 

I've  only  been  waiting  for  you  to  come  back  home  so 
you  can  take  my  place  here  with  mother. 

(CONSTANCE  immediately  drops  all  her  banter 
and    gives    SARAH    a    frightened,    questioning 
look.) 
Oh,  it  isn't  so  dreadful,  Con ;  don't  be  frightened. 

CONSTANCE 
(Slowly) 

How  could  anybody  take  your  place  with  mother? 

SARAH 

You  could  and  only  you.     (Smiling.)     It  will  be  a 
change  for  mother  to  talk  to  a  college  graduate. 

CONSTANCE 
(Dubiously) 

Mother's  a  dear,  but  it  doesn't  need  a  college  educa 
tion  to  talk  to  her. 

SARAH 
(Laughing) 

Yet  think  of  all  the  new  subjects  she  can  discuss 
while  I'm  away. 

CONSTANCE 

(Hardly  grasping  it) 
You're  really  going  away? 

SARAH 
Yes.     Does  it  surprise  you  so? 


72  THE  GROOVE 

CONSTANCE 


SARAH 

(With  naive  enthusiasm  throughout) 
It  did  me,  too.    But  you  get  used  to  a  surprise  when 
you  think  and  plan  over  it  for  a  year. 

CONSTANCE 

(As  she  fingers  the  photograph  in  thought) 
Sarah,  I  can't  seem  to  think  of  you  away  from  here. 

SARAH 
I'm  part  of  the  landscape,  eh? 

CONSTANCE 
Yes.    The  reliable  oak  mother's  clinging  to. 

SARAH 
I  felt  kind  of  timid  myself  at  first. 

CONSTANCE 
(Looking  at  her) 

Why,  you're  blushing  now,  Sarah.     You're  all  ex 
cited. 

SARAH 
It  thrills  me  down  to  the  toes,  as  you  said. 

CONSTANCE 
What  are  you  going  to  do? 


THE  GROOVE  73 

SARAH 

(With  delight} 
I'm  going  to  New  York  to  study  nursing! 

CONTSTANCE 

(Disappointed) 
You  call  that  an  adventure? 

SARAH 

(Happily) 
It  seems  like  it  to  me. 

COXSTAXCE 

But  couldn't  you  learn  nursing  here? 

SARAH 

I've  read  all  the  books  I  could  get,  but  the  only  place 
to  really  learn  is  in  a  hospital. 

CONSTAXCE 

Ugh!     I  hate  the  thought  of  it. 

SARAH 

(With  suppressed  excitement.) 

It's  the  one  thing  I  think  I  can  do ;  so  when  I  made 
up  my  mind  I  made  inquiries.  My!  how  I  trembled 
over  that  first  letter!  I  felt  so  daring  and  reckless. 
The  money  question  bothered  me  at  first,  as  I  didn't 
want  to  touch  our  little  income.  But  to-day — on  the 
same  train  that  you  came — there  was  a  letter  from  the 
Nurses'  Settlement  in  New  York.  They  told  me 


74  THE  GROOVE 

there's  a  place  open  where  I  can  study  and,  by  taking 
charge  of  some  children  in  the  district,  I  can  pay  my 
own  way.  (Glowing)  Think  of  that! 

CONSTANCE 

(With  a  hidden  thought) 
When  are  you  going? 

SARAH 

They'll  hold  it  open  two  weeks.  I'm  going  to  write 
them  to-night  that  I'll  be  there  the  fourteenth.  That 
will  be  giving  you  and  me  a  chance  for  a  visit  together 
first. 

CONSTANCE 
(Eyeing  her  closely) 

Sarah,  have  you  told  me  the  real  reason  you  want 
to  go? 

SARAH 
(Frankly) 
Why,  yes,  dear. 

CONSTANCE 
There's  no  man  you  want  to  get  away  from  ? 

SARAH 
(Laughing) 

Nonsense ;  you've  got  men  on  the  brain.  Men  don't 
supply  all  the  romance  in  the  world,  silly!  This  is  my 
romance — just  like  religion  is  to  mother.  It's  my  ad 
venture — my — I  was  going  to  say — my  flight. 


THE  GROOVE  75 

CONSTANCE 
(Slowly) 

You're  doing  it  because  you  think  every  woman 
ought  to  have  a  job  ? 

SARAH 
(Taking  her  hands  and  speaking  with  great  simplicity} 

No,  no ;  nothing  like  that.  It's  a  personal  feeling.  I 
suppose  what  I  need  is  a  change — something  complete 
for  a  while.  I'm  in  a  groove,  Con,  and  I've  been  going 
along  in  it  for  years.  Most  of  the  women  here  are 
living  in  grooves,  too;  only  they  don't  know  it. 
Mother  is:  she's  so  comfortable  in  hers;  she  simply 
couldn't  stand  having  a  change;  it  would  upset  her 
beyond  words.  Lots  of  them  are  like  mother.  It's  so 
easy  to  slip  along  year  after  year  in  your  own  particu 
lar  groove.  It  has  its  ups  and  downs,  of  course;  but 
it's  there  just  the  same.  I've  noticed  some  of  the 
grooves  are  all  ready  for  us;  our  fathers  and  mothers 
crease  them  out  and  we  follow  right  along.  Some  of 
us  make  them  ourselves — maybe  I  have:  like  the  ani 
mals  in  the  ground  that  have  their  little  runways  over 
which  they  go  day  after  day.  After  a  while  you  think 
of  it  as  part  of  your  life:  something  you  do  mechani 
cally  because  you've  always  done  it.  (Sweetly}  Well, 
I  thought  I'd  like  to  get  out  of  my  comfortable  little 
groove  to  see  what  it  would  be  like.  So  I  made  up  my 
mind  I'd  try  it  for  a  year  at  least. 

CONSTANCE 

(Startled} 
A  year ! 


76  THE  GROOVE 

SARAH 

Yes;  maybe  I  won't  last  that  long.  Some  of  those 
who've  left  come  back:  the  groove  is  so  much  easier. 
But  in  a  year,  with  what  I  know  now,  I'll  be  a  well- 
qualified  nurse  and — (Tenderly) — maybe  perhaps 
you'll  want  to  be  getting  married  by  then  and  go  away 
— (As  CONSTANCE  turns  aside)  What  is  it,  Con? 
Con,  I  do  want  you  to  be  married  some  day.  What  is 
it,  dear?  Aren't  you  glad  I  told  you  about  my  going? 

CONSTANCE 
(Restrained) 
Have  you  told  mother  ? 

SARAH 
Not  yet. 

CONSTANCE 
N  Why? 

SARAH 

I  thought  it  would  be  easier  for  mother  when  she 
had  you  already  here  with  her. 

CONSTANCE 
One  of  us  mus.t  stay? 

SARAH 
(Simply) 
Of  course.    We're  all  she  has. 

(CONSTANCE     eyes     the     photograph     again, 
while  SARAH  looks  toward  her  mother's  door 


THE  GROOVE  77 

as  though  listening  to  hear  a  sound.     There  is 
a  pause.) 

CONSTANCE 

(Quietly} 

I'm  so  glad  you  told  me,  sister.  You  ought  to  have 
it.  I  don't  see  how  you've  stood  it  all  these  years. 

SARAH 
I  have  not  been  unhappy :  only  I  need  a  change. 

CONSTANCE 
Is  that  all  you  call  it? 

SARAH 

I  said  it  was  my  romance.  But  I've  waited  a  long 
while.  (CONSTANCE  lowers  her  eyes.)  What  is  it, 
Con?  Say  it,  dear. 

CONSTANCE 

(Softly) 
Mine  has  come  quicker. 

SARAH 
Your  what? 

CONSTANCE 

My — my  romance. 

SARAH 
You've  always  had  romance.     You're  beautiful. 


7 8  THE  GROOVE 

CONSTANCE 
I  mean  the  real  one. 

SARAH 
(Beginning  to  understand) 

The  real  one? 

A. 

CONSTANCE 
Yes. 

(She  hesitates  and  then  slowly  gives  the  photo 
graph  to  SARAH,  who  gazes  at  it  quietly.) 

SARAH 

In  love?  (CONSTANCE  nods  quickly.)  Oh,  I've 
been  talking  about  myself  and  not  about  you.  And 
you  had  this  to  show  me. 

CONSTANCE 
(In  spite  of  herself) 
Do  you  like  him? 

SARAH 
Yes.    But  I  suppose  it  flatters  him. 

CONSTANCE 
(Emphatically) 
Not  a  bit. 

SARAH 
Is  he  tall? 

CONSTANCE 
Over  six  feet. 


THE  GROOVE  79 

SARAH 
You  always  liked  tall  boys. 

CONSTANCE 

When  I  could  get  them.  There's  so  much  more  to 
love. 

SARAH 
And  they  all  were  fond  of  you. 

CONSTANCE 

(In    good   spirits   again,   and    no    longer    thinking    of 

SARAH) 
Not  the  way  Paul  is. 

SARAH 

Paul? 

CONSTANCE 
{Glowing) 

Paul  Lamar.  Isn't  it  a  lovely  name?  He  is  the 
most  wonderful  man  I've  ever  met!  He's  strong  and 
brilliant  and 

SARAH 
Yes,  yes. 

CONSTANCE 

He's  a  civil  engineer,  like  his  father.  I've  known 
him  all  winter  and  we've  seen  each  other  every  day.  He 
asked  me  yesterday  if — if  I  would  marry  him. 


So  THE  GROOVE 

SARAH 
Marry  him? 

(There  is  a  long  silence.  Then  SARAH,  more 
serious,  lifts  CONSTANCE'S  head  and  gazes  into 
her  eyes.) 

CONSTANCE 
I  love  him,  sister,  I  love  him. 

SARAH 
(Slowly) 

I  believe  you  do. 

CONSTANCE 
I  couldn't  write  about  it  till  it  happened  for  sure. 

SARAH 
(Simply) 
It  must  be  nice  to  be  loved. 

CONSTANCE 


SARAH 

But  we  mustn't  be  sad  about  it.  You've  been  in 
love  before. 

CONSTANCE 
(Half  peevishly) 

I  hate  to  think  of  that.  Besides,  I  was  young.  You 
said  yourself  I'm  a  woman  now.  I've  never  been  in 
love  before:  honestly,  sis,  never  really  before. 


THE  GROOVE  81 

SARAH 

I'm  not  blaming  you.     (Still  gazing  at  photograph.) 
Only  I  want  you  to  be  sure  of  yourself. 

CONSTANCE 
I  am  sure  this  time — very  sure. 

SARAH 
(Cheerfully) 
Then  we  must  have  him  down  for  a  visit. 

CONSTANCE 
You  want  to  look  him  over? 

SARAH 
(Laughing) 
Yes.     Could  he  come  now? 

CONSTANCE 

He  said  he'd  hang  on  the  mail-box. 

SARAH 
We'll  wire  him  to-morrow. 

(She  gives  back  the  photograph  to  CONSTANCE, 
who  places  it  on  the  table.) 
I  certainly  want  him  down  before  I  go  away. 

CONSTANCE 
(Troubled) 
Before  you  go? 


82  THE  GROOVE 

SARAH 

My  being  here  will  help  mother  get  used  to  him. 
And  then  he  can  come  down  every  once  in  a  while  to 
visit  you.  When  I  come  back  you'll  know  for  sure 
if  your  heart  has  made  no  mistake. 

CONSTANCE 
(Half  desperately) 
I  tell  you  I'm  sure  now. 

SARAH 
You  should  give  it  time. 

CONSTANCE 
(Involuntarily) 

You  don't  know  what  it  is  to  wait.  You've  never 
been  in  love. 

SARAH 
(Simply) 

I  know  what  it  is  to  wait. 

CONSTANCE 
Forgive  me,  Sarah. 

SARAH 

(Taking  her  hands  again  affectionately) 

I  haven't  had  much  experience,  Con;  but  I'm  your 

older  sister.     I've  sort  of  watched  without  taking  part 

in  what  goes  on.     There's  love  and  hate  and  sorrow 

here   in   this   little   place   just    like   everywhere   else. 


THE  GROOVE  83 

That's  "  the  ups  and  downs  "  I  spoke  of.  And  people 
make  mistakes.  I  want  the  best  there  is  for  you:  a 
home,  children,  and  a  full  life. 

CONSTANCE 

Is  there  any  \yay_  of  knowing  beforehand  except  by 
what  you  feel  ? 

SARAH 

Feelings  are  real  but  not  always  right.  There's  no 
other  way  of  knowing.  And  people  always  mean  to 
make  their  marriage  happy.  If  things  go  dead  wrong 
afterwards,  they  can  be  fixed  up.  (Impressively)  But 
don't  forget,  Con,  you  never  can  fix  up  a  marriage  that 
isn't  just  quite  right.  That  was  mother's  marriage, 
you  know. 

CONSTANCE 

(After  a  long,  thoughtful  pause) 
A  year's  a  long  while  when  you're  young. 

SARAH 

The  years  become  longer  as  you  grow  older — less 
happens.  (Persuasively)  So  don't  be  impatient,  little 
sister.  Remember  I  want  you  to  be  happy  that  way 
above  all  else.  So  wait  till  I  come  back. 

CONSTANCE 
(With  difficulty) 

Sarah,  I  haven't  told  you  everything.  His  father  has 
a  government  contract  to  build  a  huge  viaduct  in 


84  T, 

Brazil.     He  has  often  change  with  him  out 

there.     It's  a  great  opp*          ty»    He's  so  ambitious. 

S^KAH 

He's  going? 

CONSTANCE 
Yes. 


SARAH 
When  docs  he  go? 

CONSTANCE 
In  twa  months. 

SARAH 
For  how  long? 

CONSTANCE 

(Slowly) 
Three  years. 

SARAH 

(After  a  pause,  as  though  afraid  to  ask) 
And  he  has  asked  you  to  go  with  him  ? 

CONSTANCE 
Yes. 

SARAH 

You  told  him  you'd  go? 


THE  GROOVE  85 

CONSTANCE 
I  said  I  would  write  him  after  I  saw  you  and  mother. 

SARAH 

(Very  quietly) 
You  want  to  go? 

CONSTANCE 
I  love  him. 

(In   the  silence   that  follows  SARAH  sits  mo 
tionless,    though    her   eyes   have    flashed   for   a 
moment  with  instinctive  rebellion  which  CON- 
STANCE  detects.) 
I  didn't  know  about  you  and  your  plan  to  go  away. 

SARAH 

(Almost  inaudibly) 
The  groove! 

CONSTANCE 
(Kneeling  beside  her  and  burying  her  head  in  SARAH'S 

lap) 

No,  no,  Sarah,  I  won't  accept  it — I  won't.  I've 
always  taken  everything  from  you.  I  won't  take  this. 
I'll  stay— I'll  wait. 

(SARAH  looks  at  her  and  runs  her  hand  lovingly 
over  CONSTANCE'S  hair  in  obvious  appreciation 
of  this  impulse.) 

SARAH 
Let  me  think  a  moment. 


86  THE  GROOVE 

CONSTANCE 

I  know  all  it  means.  You've  counted  on  it  so  and — 
Oh,  why  isn't  mother  different!  " 

SARAH 
We  must  accept  people  as  they  are. 

CONSTANCE 

If  she  only  had  a  life  of  her  own;  something  to 
occupy  it — some  work!  She's  well — she's  able 

SARAH 
She  feels  she's  done  her  duty  having  us. 

CONSTANCE 
(Rebelliously) 

If  I  ever  have  a  child,  I  hope  I  won't  feel  it  must 
sacrifice  for  me. 

SARAH 

Yes,  you  will:  if  you're  like  mother — dependent, 
with  nothing  but  her  home  and  her  children,  since 
father  died. 

CONSTANCE 

It  isn't  right.  (Quickly}  Can't  you  go  anyway? 
Have  somebody  come  here  in  your  place?  Write  Cou 
sin  Sally  or — oh,  Sarah;  tell  mother  about  it.  She'll 
understand.  Tell  her  how  you've  counted  on  it.  Let 
me  tell  her ;  let  me  remind  her  how  you've  stayed  here 
with  her,  year  after  year 


THE  GROOVE  87 

SARAH 
Hush!     She'll  hear  you. 

CONSTANCE 
I  want  her  to  know. 

SARAH 

(With  quiet  firmness) 

Suppose  she  didn't  understand  ?  Could  we  take  that 
risk  of  hurting  her?  ( CONSTANCE  bows  her  head.) 
It's  what  she  feels — that  is  all  we  have  to  go  by.  She's 
often  said  she  gave  her  youth  to  us. 

CONSTANCE 

(Bitterly) 
And  you  have  given  yours  to  her  in  return. 

SARAH 

I've  done  it  willingly.  One  is  enough.  Mine  is 
nearly  gone.  (With  resolution)  You  sha'n't  give 
yours,  Con. 

CONSTANCE 
But  I  won't  accept  it. 

SARAH 
(Smiling) 

Yes,  you  will.     Youth  does. 

CONSTANCE 

You  didn't. 


88  THE  GROOVE 

SARAH 

No  one  else  had  a  claim  on  me.  Somebody  loves 
you. 

CONSTANCE 
{With  less  persistency} 
But,  sister,  he'll  understand. 

SARAH 

Don't  you  know  me  well  enough  to  see  that  I 
couldn't  let  my  foolish  little  plan  stand  between  you 
and  him? 

CONSTANCE 
I'd  blame  myself  every  day — every  hour. 

SARAH 

What  for,  Con  ?  Because  life  has  brought  you  some 
thing  you  didn't  seek?  Something  that  makes  life? 
It  isn't  anybody's  fault;  unless  it  is  mine  in  making 
you  go  away. 

CONSTANCE 

It  wouldn't  have  happened  if  I'd  stayed  here  like 
other  girls.  Why  did  you  make  me  go  ? 

SARAH 

Because  I  noticed  in  our  garden  that  the  seeds  which 
fell  from  a  plant  never  grew  up  if  they  took  root  in 
the  shade  of  its  own  leaves.  That's  why  the  wind 
scatters  them  out  into  free  soil. 


THE  GROOVE  89 

CONSTANCE 
(Slowly) 

Yet  see  what  has  happened. 

SARAH 

(Patting  her  hand) 
But  it  has  happened.    So  let's  look  it  in  the  face. 

CONSTANCE 
y    It  seems  all  twisted  and  wrong. 

SARAH 

I  made  one  mistake,  Con;  it  only  just  dawned  on 
me.  I  forget  you  could  never  be  contented  here  when 
you  finally  did  come  back.  It  must  be  a  small  place 
here  after  you've  had  a  glimpse  of  the  world. 

CONSTANCE 
Oh,  Sarah,  it  is  a  small  place. 

SARAH 
(Smiling) 

When  your  heart  yearns  for  Brazil. 

CONSTANCE 
I  love  you,  too,  sister;  vp.Pn-  YPTT  mrrrh 

SARAH 

But  you  don't  need  me  to  make  you  happy.  (CON 
STANCE  protests.)  No;  you  don't.  Yet  I  can  always 
keep  in  your  heart  far  away  in  the  corner  where  you 


go  THE  GROOVE 

can  come  to  me  if  ever  you  need  me.  And  you  will 
come  if — ?  (CONSTANCE  kisses  her  hand  in  acquies 
cence.)  So  you  must  go  with  him,  if  you  are  sure. 

CONSTANCE 

But  I  hate  to  think  of  you  slipping  back  into  the 
groove  ? 

SARAH 
(Cheerfully) 

See  here,  little  sister.  I  don't  want  you  to  spoil  any 
of  your  own  joy  thinking  of  me  like  that.  People  can 
make  choices;  they  can  go  or  they  can  stay  if  they 
wish ;  and  when  they  make  their  choice  they  shouldn't 
rebel  at  what  they  haven't  taken.  Now  I  feel  I  must 
stay  here  with  mother.  I've  had  my  foolish  dream 
and — and  sometime  far  off — I  may  dream  of  doing 
it  again.  But  I  must  stay  here  now. 

CONSTANCE 
Oh,  Sarah! 

SARAH 

There's  no  arguing  that  in  my  heart.  You  see,  I'm 
not  pitying  myself  or  being  sorry,  Con.  For  a  mo 
ment,  it  did  seem  to  put  out  the  light.  But  I've  been 
looking  at  it  too  steadily  and  it  hid  the  other  objects. 
So  promise  me  you'll  be  happy  about  me. 

CONSTANCE 
Can't  I  do  anything? 


THE  GROOVE  91 

SARAH 

(With  the  intensity  of  profound  conviction) 
Yes.    Don't  you  ever  let  your  life  slip  into  a  groove! 
(CONSTANCE    sits    deeply    impressed    by    the 
thought.     After  a  long  pause  SARAH  rises  and 
goes  to  the  dressing-table.) 
I  forgot  to  fill  your  lamp. 

(She  sees  the  photograph,  picks  it  up,  looks  at 
it  wonderingly,  and  then  puts  it  down  silently. 
Then  she  blows  out  one  of  the  candles,  crosses 
and  pulls  down  the  bed-covers  which  are  flooded 
by  the  soft  moonlight.) 
You  must  go  to  bed.  You're  tired. 

CONSTANCE 
I'm  not  sleepy. 

SARAH 
I  want  to  see  you  in  bed  before  I  go. 

CONSTANCE 
Won't  you  tuck  up  with  me  like  we  used  to? 

SARAH 
We'd  talk;  and  you  must  get  your  rest.     Come. 

CONSTANCE 

(Rising  and  going  to  SARAH) 
Oh,  sister ! 


92  THE  GROOVE 

SARAH 

(Impulsively  throwing  her  arms  about  her  and  then 
holding  her  at  arms'  length  while  speaking  earnestly) 

We*  women-- must-learn   to   see   clearly.      All    the 
f  wemeft  I  know  mix  their  feelings  with  the -facts. 

CONSTANCE 
You're  the  finest  sister  in  the  world. 

SARAH 

Nonsense,  dear;  I'm  the  only  one  you  have.     (She 
slips  off  CONSTANCE'S  wrapper.)     Come! 

CONSTANCE 

(As  she  slowly  gets  into  the  bed) 
But  I'm  not  sleepy. 

SARAH 

(As  she  pulls  up  the  covers) 
Does  the  moonlight  bother  you  ? 

CONSTANCE 
No. 

SARAH 

I've  left  a  blanket  here.    It  gets  chilly  toward  morn 
ing.    Good-night,  little  woman. 

CONSTANCE 
Good-night. 

(SARAH  leans  over  and  kisses  her,  then  moves 
her  hands  over  her  forehead  several  times  as 


THE  GROOVE  93 

though  quieting  her.  She  lingers  a  moment 
and  then  moves  slowly  to  the  table.  As  she 
lifts  the  lighted  candle  she  catches  a  glimpse  of 
her  own  tired  face  in  the  mirror.  She  is  startled 
for  a  moment,  then  turns  slowly  away,  carrying 
the  candle  toward  the  door.) 
Sarah? 

SARAH 
Yes? 

CONSTANCE 
Do  you  think  there  are  any  grooves  in  Brazil? 

(SARAH  smiles  wisely  and  goes  out  into  their 
mother's  room,  closing  the  door  quietly.) 

[CURTAIN  FALLS  SLOWLY] 


A  GOOD  WOMAN 


THE  PEOPLE 

CORA  WARREN. 

HAL  MERRILL,  a  magazine  writer. 

SCENE 

At  Cora  Warren  s  flat.    A  large  city  in  New 
State.     Late  one  winter  evening. 


A  GOOD  WOMAN* 

SMALL  room  in  what  is  a  modest  but  com- 
for  table  flat,  up  several  flights  of  stairs.  In 
back,  a  door  opens  on  the  landing.  A  snow- 
lined  window  may  be  seen  at  the  right  through  the 
pretty  lace  curtains.  Opposite  this  a  door  leads  off  into 
the  other  rooms.  The  furnishings  are  simple  but  ade 
quate;  wicker  chairs,  a  couch,  a  small  table,  carefully 
selected  pictures,  some  book-shelves,  and  a. large  warm 
rug  upon  the  hardwood  floor  are  conspicuous.  A  house 
telephone  is  on  the  left  wall  near  the  door.  There  is 
ing  seclusive,  personal,  and  intimate  about  the 
room,  softly  lighted  by  several  shaded  wicker- 
amps  which  blend  in  color  with  the  one-toned  pat- 
ternless  wall-paper. 

Outside  the  wind  is  heard  hoiuling  as  it  drives  the 
snow  and  sleet  against  the  window.  After  some  mo 
ments,  a  bell  is  heard.  CORA  WARREN  enters  quickly 
and  opens  the  outer  door,  admitting  HAL  MERRILL. 
She  closes  the  door  and  kisses  him. 

CORA  WARREN  is  a  woman  of  thirty,  full  of  rich 
feeling,  sensitive,  impulsive,  yet  withal  clear -visioned 
and  courageous.  There  is  every  mark  of  refinement, 
culture,  and  distinction  in  her  speech,  -with  nothing 
exotic  or  abnormal  in  her  manner.  She  is  in  a  pretty 
negligee. 

*  Copyright,' 1 9 14,  by  George  Middleton.  All  rights  reserved. 


98  A  GOOD  WOMAN 

HAL  MERRILL  zV  older,  beginning  to  settle,  in  fact, 
but  full  of  mental  and  physical  vigor,  in  spite  of  fea 
tures  which,  when  relaxed,  betray  a  certain  careworn 
expression.  He,  too,  is  evidently  well-born,  and  has 
had,  no  doubt,  many  advantages.  His  heavy  over 
coat,  rubbers,  and  soft  felt  hat  are  wet  with  the  snow. 

CORA 
I'm  so  glad  you've  come.     Why,  you're  all  wet. 

HAL 

(Taking  off  his  overcoat) 
I  walked  uptown. 

CORA 

(Playfully  admonishing  him  throughout) 
In  this  storm  ?    And  you  knew  I  was  waiting  ? 

HAL 

You  are  always  waiting. 

CORA 

You'll  get  your  death,  dear.  Give  me  the  coat.  I'll 
hang  it  over  a  chair  before  the  gas  stove.  And  your 
feet — my — my !  Soaked  ? 

HAL 

No,   rubbers. 

CORA 
So  you  did  mind  me  and  wear  them. 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  99 

HAL 
Yes.     (Kicking  them  off.) 

CORA 

You  must  take  more  care  of  yourself.    What  would 
I  do  if  you  were  ill?    You  should  have  ridden. 

HAL 

It  clears  your  thoughts  to  walk  with  the  snow  beat 
ing  in  your  face. 

CORA 
(Detecting  a  hidden  meaning) 

Hal? 

HAL 

It's  good  to  be  here  with  you  again,  Cora. 

CORA 

(Cheerfully  again) 

Yes-  it's  been  so  long  since  yesterday.  (They 
laugh.)  Now  sit  down  and  rest.  I've  a  hot  toddy  all 
ready  for  you. 

HAL 
Just  what  I  wanted. 

CORA 

Here's  your   pipe-old   and   strong  as  ever, 
you  forget  the  tobacco? 


ioo  A  GOOD  WOMAN 

HAL 

No.  (Taking  the  pipe.)  You  always  make  it  seem 
like  home,  dearest. 

CORA 
(Hurt) 

"Seem"? 

HAL 

(Holding  her  hand  during  a  slight  pause) 
You  know  what  I  mean. 

CORA 
(As  she  strikes  a  match  and  lights  the  pipe  which  he 

has  filled) 

How  worn  and  tired  you  are,  dear.  I'll  be  glad 
when  this  lawsuit  is  over.  Just  relax.  Let  go.  (She 
kisses  him.)  Dearest. 

(CoRA  takes  up  the  coat  and  rubbers,  going 
out  quickly  in  back. 

HAL  stops  smokingt  the  smile  disappears,  and 
his  head  lowers,  as  he  seems  overcome  with  the 
mood  he  has  been  trying  to  fight  back. 

CORA  comes  in  unobserved  with  the  toddy. 
She   looks  at   him,  shakes   her   head  and   then 
comes,  placing  her  hand  on  his  arm.    He  starts 
up   from    his   reverie.) 
What  is  it,  Hal? 

HAL 

Nothing. 


A  GOQD  WOMAN  101 


CORA 

(AW  believing  him) 
Take  this,  dear. 

HAL 

Thanks.     (He  sips  it.)     Urn!  it's  hot,  Cora.     Just 
the   right   amount  of   sugar,   too. 

(CoRA  watches  him  questioningly  as  he  sips  it 
slowly.  She  picks  up  a  couple  of  sofa  cushions 
and  comes  over  to  him,  placing  them  by  him,  on 
the  floor.  She  sits  on  them,  waiting  for  him  to 
speak.) 

HAL 
That  tastes  good. 

CORA 
You're  sure  you  didn't  get  chilled? 

HAL 
I  walked  rapidly. 

CORA 
Did  anything  go  wrong  with  the  case? 

HAL 

(Patting  her) 
What  makes  you  think  that? 

CORA 
Something's  worrying  you. 


102  A  GOOD  WOMAN 

HAL 

Something  did:  but  it's  all  settled  now. 

CORA 
So  that's  why  you  walked  in  the  storm? 

HAL 
Yes. 

CORA 

I'm  glad  it's  settled;  only  I   should  like  to  have 
helped  settle  it. 

HAL 

Cora? 

CORA 

(She  turns  and  looks  up  into  his  face) 
Yes? 

HAL 

I  wonder  how  great  a  test  your  love  for  me  would 
stand  ? 

CORA 
Could  I  have  given  more? 

HAL 
There  is  something  more  I  must  ask. 

CORA 
(Puzzled) 

Something  more?    Tell  me,  Hal. 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  103 

HAL 

(Holding  her  head  between  his  hands) 
Is  your  love  strong  enough  to  accept  a  silence? 

CORA 
Aren't  there  silent  places  in  every  love? 

HAL 

(With  some  slight  hesitation) 

I  mean  if — if  I  should  do  something  which  I  thought 
best  not  to  explain. 

CORA 
(Simply) 

I  should  accept  everything  so  long  as  you  were  honest 
with  me.     Only 

HAL 
Only  what,  dear? 

CORA 

(Thoughtfully) 
Silence  itself  is  not  always  honest. 

HAL 
In  this  particular  matter  will  you  let  me  be  the 

judge  of  that? 

CORA 
A  woman  in  my  position  must  accept. 


104  A  GOOD  WOMAN 

HAL 
Cora! 

CORA 
(Quickly) 

Oh,  I  didn't  mean  that,  Hal ;  that  was  unworthy  of 
me. 

HAL 
You  know  how  I  love  you. 

CORA 

Yes,  yes,  dear.  Of  course  I  know.  I  am  ashamed 
of  nothing.  I'm  proud  of  all  we  have  here  in  the 
quiet.  But  the  snow  beating  against  the  window  has 
been  reminding  me  all  day  of  the  world  outside. 

HAL 

The  snow  is  so  free! 

CORA 

Yes;  and  you  and  I  are  bound  by  secrecy.  That's 
what  hurts:  the  secrecy. 

HAL 

(Stroking  her  hair) 
If  you  could  only  be  my  wife. 

CORA 
(Smiling) 

Just  for  the  freedom  it  would  give  me  to  share 
everything  in  the  open  with  you.  That's  all.  Just 
for  the  freedom  we  can't  have  now. 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  105 

HAL 

But,  Cora,  even  in  marriage  itself  only  the  happy 
are  free. 

CORA 

(Intimating  a  hidden  thought) 

I  suppose  the  most  difficult  thing  for  some  people  is 
to  give  freedom.  (He  nods  in  understanding.)  Poor 
Hal!  How  you  have  suffered,  too,  with  this  tangle 
we  are  in. 

(The  'phone  rings.     They  are  surprised.) 
Who  could  that  be? 

HAL 

(Nervously) 
No  one  knows  your  number  ? 

CORA 
No.  (The  ring  is  repeated.) 

HAL 

(Dismissing'  it) 
Central's  made  a  mistake.    Don't  answer  it. 


CORA 

Everything  startles  me  so  these  days.     (Dismissing 
it  too.)     Have  another  toddy? 

HAL 

Not  now. 


io6  A  GOOD  WOMAN 

CORA 

Tell  me  about  the  case.  Is  "  Boss  "  McQuinn  still 
going  to  take  his  libel  suit  into  court? 

HAL 
It's  called  for  to-morrow  at  ten. 

CORA 
(Pleased) 

To-morrow!  It's  come  at  last,  then,  after  all  your 
months  of  work.  To-morrow.  (With  a  sigh)  And  I 
can't  be  there  in  court  to  hear  you  when  you  testify, 
or  to  follow,  in  the  open,  each  step  we've  talked  over 
here.  That's  where  my  position  hurts. 

HAL 

(With  apparent  difficulty  throughout) 
Perhaps  I  sha'n't  take  the  stand  against  McQuinn, 
after  all. 

CORA 
You  mean  it  won't  be  necessary? 

HAL 

Not  exactly  that. 

CORA 

But  what  you  wrote  about  McQuinn  in  the 
Monthly ? 

HAL 

Every  word  of  my  exposure  was  true. 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  107 

CORA 

But  you've  said  so  often  the  whole  defense  of  the 
magazine  in  McQuinn's  libel  suit  against  it  rests  on 
your  testimony  alone. 

HAL 
Yes,  yes. 

CORA 

(Disappointed) 

I  see.  You  mean  the  Monthly  has  decided  to  re 
tract  ? 

HAL 

No. 

CORA 

(Not  quite  grasping  the  significance) 
Is  this  why  you  walked  with  the  snow  beating  in 
your  face? 

HAL 

(With  feeling) 

This  is  the  silent  place!  I'm  not  going  to  testify 
in  this  suit,  after  all.  Please  don't  question  me  about 
it,  dear. 

CORA 

(Startled) 
Not  going  to  testify? 


io8  A  GOOD  WOMAN 

HAL 

(Earnestly) 

Just  trust  me,  Cora;  and  let  me  be  silent  as  to  the 
reason. 

CORA 
(Restraining  her  instinctive  impulse  to   question  and 

placing  her  hands  on  his  shoulders) 
Whatever  is  the  reason,  I  know  you  must  have  suf 
fered.     It  is  not  like  you  to  give  up.     (He  lowers  his 
eyes.)     You've  never  asked  anything  greater  of  me  than 
this  silence. 

HAL 

(Deeply  moved) 

Perhaps  I've  never  given  anything  greater,  Cora. 
(The  'phone  rings  again:  they  look  toward  it.) 

CORA 
(Slowly) 

Did  you  give  our  number  to  any  one? 

HAL 

(Nervously) 
No.  (It  rings  again.) 

CORA 
Nobody  ever  rings  here  but  you. 

(She  goes  apprehensively  to  the  'phone  in  spite 
of  his  movement  to  restrain  her.) 
Yes,  this  is  Cora  Warren.  .  .   .  Who  ?  .  .   .  Mr.  Mo 
Quinn ! ! 

(They  look  at  each  other.     She  quickly  controls 
herself  and  speaks  casually.) 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  109 

Mr.  Merrill?  .  .  .  You're  mistaken — why  should 
he  be  here?  .  .  .  Theres'  no  need  of  ringing  me  up 
later.  (She  hangs  up  the  receiver.)  He  laughed,  Hal. 
He  laughed!  (She  goes  to  him.)  He  has  found  out 
about  you  and  me ! ! 

HAL 
No,  no. 

CORA 
(Shaken) 
That's  what  it  is.     It  was  the  way  he  laughed ! 


HAL 

( Confused) 
Nonsense. 

CORA 

(Slowly  grasping  the  situation) 

For  months  you've  told  me  McQuinn  has  been  fight 
ing  for  his  political  life,  desperate  over  your  exposures. 
He's  been  doing  everything  to  "  get  "  your  witnesses — 
to  "  get  "  something  on  you.  Why,  he  offered  you 
money — enough  to  make  you  independent  for  life. 
You  refused  all  that ;  but,  now ,  you're  going  to  do  what 
he  wants. 

HAL 
I'm  doing  what  I  want,  I  tell  you;  what  /  want. 


no  A  GOOD  WOMAN 

CORA 

That's  not  so.  This  investigation  has  been  your 
absorbing  passion  for  months.  You've  seen  what  it 
means  to  the  hundreds  of  women  and  children  who 
have  suffered  by  his  exploitations.  He's  got  something 
on  you,  something  you  had  to  give  in  to. 

HAL 

No,  no! 

CORA 

It's  you  and  me,  Hal.  You  ask  silence  of  me  be 
cause  you  didn't  want  to  hurt  me.  It's  you  and  me; 
you  and  me. 

HAL 

No,  no! 

CORA 
(Slowly) 

Hal,  it  is  that.  Answer  me,  boy.  It  is  that — isn't 
it? 

HAL 

(Admitting  it,  after  a  jutile  denial) 
And  I  didn't  want  you  to  know. 

CORA 

He  threatened  to  tell  about  our  relations  together 
if  you  testified  against  him  ? 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  1 1 1 

HAL 
Yes:  the  blackguard. 

CORA 
(Moved) 

And  you  love  me  more  than 

HAL 

(Tenderly) 

I  only  did  what  any  man  would.  (She  lowers  her 
head.)  Dearest,  don't  take  it  so  hard.  I'm  glad  a 
chance  came  to  show  you  how  I  loved  you. 

CORA 
I  knew  without  this  proof,  Hal ;  I  knew. 

(She  sits  with  her  face  buried  in  her  hands. 
He  stands  beside  her.) 

HAL 

McQuinn  met  me  to-night,  on  the  street,  alone. 
He  said  he  knew  about  our  three  years — our  summer 
abroad — this  place — all.  He  said  he  hated  to  hit  a 
woman,  but  he  knew  he  was  beaten  and  had  to  use 
any  weapon  he  could  find.  All  he  asked  of  me  was 
silence  and  he  would  give  the  same  about  us — or  for 
me  to  forget  a  bit  on  the  stand  or  muddle  my  testi 
mony.  Of  course,  I  saw  what  it  would  mean  to  the 
case:  but  it  was  the  only  way  to  save  you.  (He  shrugs 
his  shoulders.)  He  must  have  guessed  I'd  come  straight 
to  you.  He  has  ways  of  finding  out  'phone  numbers. 


ii2  A  GOOD  WOMAN 

I  suppose  he  wanted  to  frighten  you  and  thus  make 
sure  I  wouldn't  change  my  mind. 


CORA 
(Slowly) 

Did  he  mention  your  wife? 

HAL 
Yes. 

CORA 

(Desperately) 

Did  you  tell  him  you  and  she  had  been  separated  be 
fore  you  met  me?  That  she  didn't  love  you,  that  she 
hated  you,  yet  clung  to  your  name  because  she  knew 
you  wanted  freedom  to  marry  me?  Did  you  tell  him 
she  wouldn't  give  you  that  freedom,  because  of  a  few 
words  mumbled  over  her  by  an  official  and  because  she 
said  she  was  "  a  good  woman  "  ? 

HAL 

I  did  not  discuss  the  matter.  It  was  my  wife  who 
told  him  about  us. 

CORA 
Your  wife! 

HAL 
Yes.     That  act  describes  her,  doesn't  it? 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  113 

CORA 
(Bitt*rly) 

And  the  law  gives  a  woman  like  that  the  right  to 
keep  you — a  woman  whose  body  is  dry  and  her  love 
cold — and  it  discards  me  who — oh ! 

HAL 

( Sarcastically  ) 

It  was  my  wife's  way  of  disentangling  me.  She 
thought  I'd  rather  give  you  up  than  this  case.  She 
thought  I'd  sacrifice  you.  But  she  didn't  know  me: 
she  never  knew  me. 

CORA 
And  she  knew  me! 

HAL 
It's  done.     Now  we  must  forget  and  go  on. 

CORA 

(Gazing  dully  before  her) 
What  are  you  going  to  do  now? 

HAL 
That's  what  we  must  think  of. 

CORA 
It  will  mean  you  will  have  to  leave  the  Monthly. 

HAL 

Yes.  They're  tired  of  the  suit,  anyway.  Their  ad 
vertising  has  fallen  off.  (Putting  his  arm  about  her) 
We  have  each  other. 


ii4  A  GOOD  WOMAN 

CORA 

(Ominously) 

And  always  we'd  fear  McQuinn  knocking  at  our 
door. 

HAL 

(Trying  to  cheer  her) 

Nonsense,  dear.  He'll  never  bother  to  come  up  our 
stairs. 

CORA 

How  we  women  hamper  you  men.  (He  protests.) 
Yes,  we  do.  Your  wife's  "  respectability "  and 
my 

HAL 
Hush,  dear.     It's  not  our  fault. 

CORA 

That  we  love?  No.  But  because  we've  spoken 
the  whole  language  of  love  the  world  blames  us. 
(With  growing  emotion)  If  I'd  kept  my  love  hidden, 
worn  myself  sapless,  wasted  without  expression,  then  I'd 
have  been  "  a  good  woman  " !  If  I'd  seen  you  casu 
ally,  or  if  I'd  let  you  come  near  me,  with  the  flames 
smoldering,  burning  us  both  inside  so  that  there 
was  nothing  in  our  thoughts  but  fire;  nothing  of 
comradeship  and  beauty  that  we  now  have — then  I'd 
still  have  been  "  a  good  woman."  But  because  I  let 
you  see  my  love,  because  I  wasn't  a  contemptible  tease, 
because  I  knew  all  things  were  equally  important  in 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  115 

love,  because  I  gave  myself  to  you,  I'm  not  "  a  good 
woman  "!    (She  laughs  ironically.) 

HAL 

We  live  in  the  world,  dear. 

CORA 

And  we  must  go  on  living.  (With  a  quick  resolu 
tion)  But  there  is  no  need  now  of  our  being  cowards! 

HAL 

Cowards ! 

CORA 

Yes.  Up  to  now,  Hal,  as  I  see  it,  we  have  not  been 
that.  We  did  what  we  believed  wras  right,  no  matter 
what  others  may  say.  But  now  you  and  I  are  thinking 
of  doing  what  we  know  is  wrong;  and  that  is  the  test 
of  our  courage. 

HAL 

You  mean? 

CORA 

That  now  we're  asking  somebody  else  to  pay  the 
price:  the  hundreds  of  women  and  children  in  this  city 
whom  McQuinn  would  still  go  on  exploiting  if  you 
did  not  go  on  the  stand  and  drive  him  out  of  power. 

HAL 

(Losing  momentary   control) 

It's  true;  it's  true.  But  how  could  I  ask  that  of 
you? 


n6  A  GOOD  WOMAN 

CORA 
Why  not? 

HAL 

No,  no.  We  must  think  of  ourselves  now — our 
selves. 

CORA 

(Putting  her  hand  on  his  arm) 
You  and  I  cannot  do  as  many  others.    We've  got  to 
keep  right,   in  each  other's  eyes,   or  the  world  will 
beat  us. 

HAL 
I've  done  the  hardest  thing  for  you  I  could,  Cora. 

CORA 

It's  not  always  easy  to  be  a  coward,  Hal.    And  that's 
what  I'd  also  be  if  I  accepted.     Somebody  else  would 
be  paying.     Somebody  else.     That  can  never  be  right. 
(She  bows  her  head.     There  is  a  long  pause. 
He  rises,  goes  to  the  window,  then  paces  up 
and  down.     The  snow  is  heard  freely  beating 
against  the  pane.     Her  mind  slowly  gains  con 
trol  of  her  emotions  and  she  looks  up  at  him.) 
Hal? 

HAL 
Yes. 

CORA 

If  you  went  on  the  stand  to-morrow  and  told  the 
truth  about  McQuinn,  would  your  relations  with  me 
hurt  your  statement  about  him? 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  117 

HAL 

(Bitterly) 

No.  It's  only  a  woman  whose  sex  morals  can  be 
taken  that  advantage  of  in  our  courts. 

CORA 

( With  determination ) 
Then  you  must  tell  the  truth. 

HAL 

(Desperately) 
And  have  you  hurt?     Never! 

CORA 

I  would  be  hurt  far  worse  if  you  did  not  love  me 
enough  to  do  what  I  ask, 

HAL 

Cora!  (Comes  to  her.)  You  don't  realize  what 
it  means. 

CORA 
(Calmly) 

I  realize  that  your  public  usefulness  would  be  de 
stroyed  because  you  wished  to  protect  my  reputation. 
What  people  think  of  me  matters  little  now. 

HAL 

What  people  think  of  you  means  everything  to  me. 

CORA 
You  fear  to  have  them  think  me  a  bad  woman? 


u8  A  GOOD  WOMAN 

HAL 
Cora! 

CORA 

Then  what  difference  what  they  think  so  long  as  we 
understand  each  other? 

HAL 

They'd    forgive    a    man.     But    you're    a    woman. 
They'd  never  forgive  you — never. 

CORA 
Nothing  will  be  harder  than  cowardice. 

HAL 

(Going  to  her} 

I  can't  do  this — I  can't.     They'd  think  me  a  cad  to 
sacrifice  you  like  this. 

CORA 

That  thought  has  made  liars  and  cowards  of  many 
men! 

HAL 

We  mustn't  be  foolish.     There's  nothing  greater  in 
life  than  what  two  people  feel  for  each  other. 

CORA 
(Desperately) 

That's  why  I  am  asking  this  of  you.     Don't  make 
it  harder  for  me — don't ! 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  119 

HAL 

You  are  thinking  of  those  out  in  the  city ;  I  am  think 
ing  only  of  you. 

CORA 
But  you  mustn't. 

HAL 
You're  worth  more  to  me  than  all  of  them. 

CORA 
But  you  must  think  of  the  people. 

HAL 

The  people?  That  mob  any  fool  can  lead  with  a 
few  catch  phrases?  That  ignorant  mass  that  cheers  one 
day  and  crucifies  the  next?  What  do  they  really  give 
anybody?  I'll  tell  you.  Nothing  but  ingratitude  and 
scars  while  you  live  with  immortelles  and  a  monument 
when  you're  dead.  Why  should  I  sacrifice  you  for 
them? 

CORA 
Hal!     You  don't  know  them 

HAL 

Oh,  yes,  I  do.  They  can't  sustain  their  moral  atti 
tudes.  It's  all  a  periodic  fit  with  them.  They  shout 
a  lot  while  the  brass  band  plays  and  they  cheer  any 
fool  in  the  red  light.  Then  they  settle  back  into  their 
old  self-righteousness  while  the  McQuinns  are  always 
on  the  job. 


120  A  GOOD  WOMAN 

CORA 

You're  unjust.  You  don't  know  what  you're  say 
ing.  It's  because  they  are  ignorant  that  strong  leaders 
like  you  should  go  to  them.  (He  laughs.)  You  must 
not  forget  those  others  who  are  working  with  you 
against  McQuinn. 

HAL 

The  Reformers?  Huh.  I  know  them,  too.  I'm 
sick  to  death  of  political  reforms  and  reformers  who 
plant  together  but  reap  their  fruits  separately. 

CORA 

(Trying  to  stop  him) 
They're  human  and 

HAL 

Yes;  that's  it.  Damn  human!  Why,  even  now 
they're  squabbling  over  who  shall  run  for  Mayor  once 
they  put  McQuinn  out  of  power.  They're  fighting, 
just  like  the  grafters,  with  all  the  same  petty  jealous 
personalities.  Reformers!  Would  they  put  you  on 
their  visiting  list  even  if  they  knew  you  sacrificed  your 
reputation  for  them?  With  all  their  political  morality 
do  you  think  they'd  dare  go  against  public  opinion  on 
private  morals?  No!  They  couldn't  run  for  office 
themselves  if  they  did.  They'd  think  you  unclean 

CORA 

No,  no! 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  121 

HAL 

Yes:  just  as  they  think  McQuinn  unclean.  They'd 
accept  your  sacrifice.  But  they'd  use  it  as  they  use 
their  causes:  to  ride  into  power  themselves.  Reform 
ers!  I  sha'n't  sacrifice  you  for  them.  What  do  they 
care  for  you  and  me  ? 

CORA 
But  it's  not  a  sacrifice  to  do  what  is  right. 

HAL 

Others  \vill  try  to  do  what  I  have  failed  in.  There 
are  always  plenty  of  reformers.  I  don't  want  the 
glory.  I've  seen  the  graves  of  martyrs.  No,  no.  I'll 
go  through  with  what  McQuinn  demands  just  because 
it's  you  and  me  who  matter — you  and  me. 

CORA 

With  McQuinn  always  waiting  at  the  door.  ( The 
'phone  rings  sharply  again.)  You  see? 

HAL 
Damn  him!    Why  doesn't  he  leave  us  alone? 

CORA 
We'll  never  be  alone  again. 

HAL 

I'll  fix  him. 


122  A  GOOD  WOMAN 

CORA 

(With  calm  strength] 
He  must  be  answered  now  as  well  as  later. 

HAL 

(As  she  starts  to  the  'phone) 
You  sha'n't  do  this. 

CORA 
I'll  not  let  your  work  be  ruined  by  my  cowardice. 

HAL 
I  tell  you  I'm  through  with  that  work. 

CORA 

But  you're  not  through  with  my  love !  It's  my  love 
speaking  now  for  our  love,  which  I  must  keep  clean  in 
my  own  eyes.  (  Our  love  which  the  law  punishes  by 
denying  it  freedom  to  live  in  the  open!  Our  love 
which  keeps  me  from  being  "  a  good  woman  " — like 
your  wife! 

(She    goes    to  the    J 'phone.      HAL,    seeing    the 

futility   of  further  words,  sinks  back   into   his 

chair  overcome  by  what  the  future  holds.) 

Yes.    This  is  Cora  Warren.  .  .  .  Who  wishes  to  talk 

to  Mr.  Merrill?  ...  Is  this  Mr.  McQuinn  talking? 

.    .    .   Mr.  McQuinn,  I'm  glad  you  rang  up.    ... 

I'm  fully  acquainted  with  the  particulars  of  the  case. 

.    .   .  Yes,  of  course,  we're  going  to  be  sensible.  .   .    . 

What  are  you  going  to  do?  .    .    .  Thanks  for  putting 

it  so  clearly.     I  wanted  you  to  say  that  to  me  also. 


A  GOOD  WOMAN  123 

We're  not  at  all  anxious  to  have  this  story  come  out. 
.  .  .  No.  But  Mr.  Merrill  is  going  on  the  stand 
to-morrow  to  tell  the  truth.  .  .  .  Yes.  .  .  .  And  .  .  . 
if  the  story  is  subsequently  published  .  .  .  or  if  he  is 
cross-examined  by  your  lawyers  about  our  relations,  / 
shall  go  on  the  stand,  produce  a  record  that  you  'phoned 
me  twice,  and  corroborate  his  statement  that  you  tried 
to  blackmail  him  into  silence.  .  .  .  You  are  quite  sure 
you  understand  ?  .  .  .  You're  sorry  for  me  ?  .  .  .  Oh, 
that's  all  right,  Mr.  McQuinn.  .  .  .  What's  that? 
(Her  voice  trails  off.)  Yes,  I  know  I'm  "  a  hell  of  a 
fine  woman." 

(She  hangs  up  the  receiver  and  goes  slowly  to 

HAL.) 

You  did  what  you  thought  best  for  me.    I  did  what 
is  best  for  you. 

HAL 

(Holding  her  close  as  she  kneels  beside  him) 
Poor  dear,  brave  girl.    He'll  publish  it.    I  know  him. 
And  then — oh! 

CORA 

Yes,  dearest.    But  he  didn't  laugh  this  time ! 
(There  is  a  triumphant  smile  upon  her  face.} 

[THE  CURTAIN  FALLS] 


THE  BLACK  TIE 


THE  PEOPLE 

SECRETARY  FORD. 

NETHA,  his  wife. 

STELLA,  their  daughter. 

NETTIE,  Mrs.  Ford's  maid;  a  mulatto. 

Jo,  Nettie's  boy. 

SCENE 

An  upstairs  sitting-room  at  the  Fords'.     One  spring 
afternoon. 


THE  BLACK  TIE* 

rHE  outlines  of  the  room  are  simple.  A  deep 
bay-window,  with  delicate  sash-curtains,  is  at 
one  side,  looking  apparently  down  on  the  street 
below.  Near  this  there  is  a  small  desk  littered  with 
letters.  In  back,  a  door  opens  off  into  STELLA'S  room. 
Another  door,  into  the  hallway  and  stairs  without,  is 
directly  opposite  the  window.  On  the  further  side  of 
the  room,  a  longer  table,  filled  with  magazines  and 
books,  supports  a  telephone.  The  Oriental  rugs,  the 
quiet  mahogany  furniture,  and  carefully  selected  pic 
tures  upon  the  wall  betoken  means.  Several  vases  con 
tain  fresh  flowers.  The  room  is  cheerfully  lighted  by 
the  strong  sun  pouring  in  the  bay-^uindow. 

MR.  and  MRS.  FORD  are  seen:  MR.  FORD,  seated 
in  a  deep,  comfortable  chair,  is  glancing  through  the 
newspapers,  looking  now  and  then  over  at  MRS.  FORD, 
who  is  writing  at  the  desk. 

MRS.  FORD  is  in  her  late  thirties,  bien  soignee,  and 
enhanced  by  a  gown  in  the  very  latest  fashion.  One 
senses  social  authority  and  a  calm  outlook  on  life  which 
nothing  fundamentally  disturbs. 

FORD  is  older,  comfortably  middle-aged,  in  fact,  yet 
not  devoid  of  physical  attractions.  His  kind  face  re 
veals  a  sympathetic  nature,  though  he  remains  essen 
tially  a  man  of  large  affairs. 

*  Copyright,  1914,  by  George  Middleton.     All  rights  reserved. 


128  THE  BLACK  TIE 

They  are  indeed  a  harmoniously  happy  couple  in  the 
best  circumstances,  to  whom  life  has  been  good. 

MRS.  FORD 
(Signing  a  letter) 

There,  that's  answered.    I've  accepted  for  the  thirti 
eth  at  the  Lawsons'. 

FORD 

(With  a  sigh) 

All  right.     Suppose  we  might  as  well  get  it  out  of 
our  system. 

MRS.  FORD 
What  time  is  it,  dear? 

FORD 

(Looking  at  his  watch) 

Just  two.      (Casually,  as   he   reads  the  headlines) 
Are  you  going  to  use  the  car  this  afternoon? 

MRS.  FORD 

There's   a   the-dansant  on   at   the  Westertons'.     I 
promised  to  drop  in.    Want  to  come? 

FORD 

I  thought  I'd  play  a  few  holes  of  golf.     I've  had 
a  hard  week. 

MRS.  FORD 

Miss  Lee  is  going  to  be  there:  she's  got  some  new 
steps  to  show  us. 


THE  BLACK  TIE  129 

FORD 

If  you  don't  mind,  I  prefer  to  try  some  old  strokes 
instead. 

(NETTIE  enters.  She  is  about  thirty,  obviously 
a  mulatto,  though  her  heritage  is  written  lightly, 
if  indelibly,  upon  her  black  hair  and  attractive 
features.  Her  quiet  manner  of  speech  has 
scarcely  the  slightest  trace  of  racial  accent. 
Though  her  face  is  expressive,  there  is  an  in 
scrutable  something  about  her  eyes  which  would 
excite  the  imagination  of  any  one  sufficiently 
interested  to  consider  her  more  than  a  maid  in 
the  household.) 

NETTIE 
(Quietly) 
I  beg  pardon. 

MRS.  FORD 
What  is  it,  Nettie? 

NETTIE 
What  dress  shall  Miss  Stella  put  on? 

MRS.  FORD 
(Casually) 
Oh,  any  of  her  little  white  ones. 

FORD 
Tell  Miss  Stella  I'd  like  to  see  her. 


130  THE  BLACK  TIE 

NETTIE 

Yes,  Mr.  Ford.     She's  only  got  to  slip  on  her  dress. 
(NETTIE  goes  out  quietly.) 

FORD 
You're  not  going  to  take  Stella  to  the  Westertons'  ? 

MRS.  FORD 

Why,  what  a  foolish  question.  (Smiling.)  She's 
going  to  parade. 

FORD 

(Putting  down  his  paper) 
Parade?     Our  Stella? 

MRS.  FORD 
(Speaking  casually  throughout  as  she  sorts  and  reads 

her  letters) 

Yes,  haven't  you  noticed  her  prattling  about  it? 
It's  to  celebrate  the  conference  of  Sunday-school  teach 
ers  or  something,  I  can't  quite  make  out.  I  think  all 
the  different  Sunday-schools  are  sending  their  children. 

FORD 

(Half  deprecating) 
Oh,  I  don't  like  to  have  our  Stella 

MRS.  FORD 

Neither  do  I ;  but  all  her  little  friends  are  going,  so 
I  hadn't  the  heart  to  refuse.  (Glancing  out  the  win 
dow.)  It's  a  nice  clear  day,  too,  and  they  don't  march 
far. 


THE  BLACK  TIE  131 

FORD 

I  never  thought  she  was  much  interested  in  her  Sun 
day-school  :  she's  always  seemed  willing  enough  to  take 
trips  with  us  over  the  week-ends.  Are  you  sure  it  is 
all  right? 

MRS.  FORD 

Yes.  I  telephoned  the  Thompsons.  Jack's  going, 
too.  I  thought  I'd  send  Nettie  down  with  Stella  and 
she  can  bring  the  child  back  afterwards. 

FORD 

I  want  Stella  to  have  a  good  time,  of  course. 
(Smiling.)  Dear,  you  don't  think  she's  trying  to  imi 
tate  you? 

MRS.  FORD 
How? 

FORD 

(Good-naturedly) 

You  would  march  to  the  Capitol  with  that  Suffrage 
petition,  you  know. 

(They   laugh   as   STELLA   enters,  followed   by 
NETTIE,  who  is  trying  to  fasten  her  dress. 

STELLA  is  a  sweet,  rather  precocious  child  of 
ten.  She  has  on  a  beautiful,  though  simple, 
white  frock  with  a  large  pink  ribbon  belt  and 
hair-bow f.) 

STELLA 

Oh,  daddy!  (She  runs  and  kisses  him.)  I'm  glad 
you're  home  in  time  to  see  me. 


132  THE  BLACK  TIE 

FORD 
My  little  girl!     How  beautiful  you  are! 

MRS.  FORD 
Tom,  you'll  spoil  her. 

NETTIE 
(Smiting    and    showing    her    affection    for    STELLA 

throughout) 

Let  me  finish  it,  Miss  Stella.     I  couldn't  make  her 
wait,  Mr.  Ford. 

FORD 
Is  that  a  new  dress? 

STELLA 
(Pouting) 

No:  I  wanted  a  new  one  for  the  parade,  es — pec — i — 
ally. 

FORD 
Goodness !    That's  a  big  word  for  such  a  little  girl. 

STELLA 
(Stamping) 

You  make  me  so  mad  when  you  call  me  "  little." 
I'm  taller  than  Jo  now,  and  Nettie  always  calls  him 
"  her  big  boy."  Don't  you,  Nettie?  (NETTIE  smiles.) 
Ouch!  you  stuck  me! 

NETTIE 
I  am  sorry,  Miss  Stella. 


THE  BLACK  TIE  133 

STELLA 

(Smoothing  out  her  dress) 
This  horrid  dress!    I  wish  I  had  a  new  one. 

MRS.  FORD 

I  told  you  I'd  get  you  some  new  ones  when  you  went 
to  visit  grandma, 

STELLA 
(Pouting) 

She  won't  have  a  parade,  will  she? 

FORD 

I  hope  not.    Es — pec — i — ally,  if  it's  going  to  make 
our  little  girl  so  cross. 

NETTIE 

(Hushing  STELLA) 

She  isn't  cross,  Mr.  Ford;  she's  excited  about  the 
parade. 

MRS.  FORD 

Nettie,  I  want  you  to  take  Stella  down  in  the  car 
and 

STELLA 

(Disappointed) 
Oh,  mama,  aren't  you  going  to  watch  me  march? 

FORD 
Your  mother  has  an  engagement. 


134  THE  BLACK  TIE 

STELLA 
(Petulantly) 

I  hate  engagements,  I  hate  them.  They  always 
take  you  away  from  me. 

MRS,  FORD 
(Going  to  STELLA) 

Why,  what's  come  over  you  to-day,  child?  (Kiss 
ing  her.)  There,  dear,  you  mustn't  speak  like  that.  I 
have  sent  for  the  car  and  I  thought  Nettie  might  take 
her  Jo  along,  too. 

STELLA 
(Brightening) 
That  will  be  nice,  won't  it,  Nettie? 

NETTIE 
(Pleased) 
I  can  come  fetch  my  Jo  later  if 

FORD 

No;  ride  down  all  together  and  send  the  car  back 
for  us. 

NETTIE 
Thank  you.    Jo  is  looking  forward  to  the  parade  so. 

FORD 

(Mildly  interested  and  humoring  them   throughout) 
Jo  is  going  to  be  in  the  parade,  too  ? 


THE  BLACK  TIE  135 

NETTIE 
(Proudly) 
Yes,  Mr.  Ford ;  indeed  he  is. 

STELLA 
Nettie's  got  him  a  new  suit. 

FORD 
A  new  suit?     How  interesting. 

NETTIE 

Yes,  Mr.  Ford.  This  parade  is  all  there  is  in  that 
big  boy's  head  of  mine.  You  might  reckon  it  was  a 
circus  the  way  he  jumps  thinking  of  it. 

STELLA 

Nettie  says  she  has  put  a  big  black  tie  on  Jo  so  she 
can  see  him  when  he  passes. 

FORD 

(More  interested) 
You're  going  to  watch  Jo  pass? 

NETTIE 
(Beaming) 
Yes,  sir. 

MRS.  FORD 

But,  Nettie,  I'll  have  to  change  my  gown  after  you 
take  the  children  down  and 


136  THE  BLACK  TIE 

t 

NETTIE 
(Hesitating) 
You  want  me  to  come  back? 

FORD 

(To  MRS.  FORD) 
Let  Nettie  go.    I'll  fasten  it. 

MRS.  FORD 

(Smiling  good-naturedly) 
You're  a  hero,  Tom. 

NETTIE 
But   I'll   come   back   if 

MRS.  FORD 

(Dismissing  it) 

If  Marie  isn't  here,  I'll  let  Mr.  Ford.  I  want 
you  to  enjoy  the  parade. 

NETTIE 

Thank  you.  I  want  so  to  see  Jo  march  past.  He's 
been  waiting  ready  downstairs  since  twelve  o'clock. 
Jo's  never  missed  his  Sunday-school  in  over  three 
years.  And  I  reckon  I'm  not  going  to  let  him  miss 
this  parade.  All  the  children  get  a  flag  with  a  white 
cross  on  it,  to  keep,  he  tells  me. 

STELLA 

Oh,  mama,  Jo  looks  just  lovely!  I  saw  him  all 
ready  when  I  came  in. 


THE  BLACK  TIE  137 

NETTIE 
(Embarrassed) 
Hush,  Miss  Stella! 

STELLA 

But  he  does.  Nettie's  put  a  white  duck  suit  on  him 
so  he'll  look  clean.  Didn't  you,  Nettie?  Ask  mama  if 
you  can't  bring  Jo  up  and  show  her.  Please,  daddy,  let 
her. 

FORD 

(Humoring  them) 

Yes,  do,  Nettie.  Bring  Jo  up.  Let's  see  the  little 
fellow. 

NETTIE 
Can  I,  Mrs.  Ford? 

MRS.  FORD 
Certainly,  if  Miss  Stella's  all  ready. 

NETTIE 
You  think  there's  time? 


MRS.  FORD 

Didn't  you  say   it  starts   from  G   Street   at   two- 
thirty,  Stella? 

NETTIE 
I  think  it's  at  three,  Mrs.  Ford. 


138  THE  BLACK  TIE 

MRS.  FORD 
Mr.  Ford  will  look  it  up  in  the  paper,  to  be  sure. 

NETTIE 
I  don't  want  Jo  to  be  late. 

(NETTIE    goes    out    quietly,    pleased    at    the 
prospect  of  showing  her  boy  to  them. 

MRS.  FORD  goes  to  STELLA,  who  has  been 
standing  thoughtfully.) 

MRS.  FORD 

What  is  it,  Stella? 

STELLA 
(Slowly) 

Mama,  do  you  love  me  like  Nettie  loves  her  Jo? 

MRS.  FORD 
(As  FORD  looks  up) 
Stella! 

STELLA 

Jo's  all  Nettie  thinks  of.    She's  always  talking  about 
him  and  making  him  clothes  to  wear  and 

MRS.  FORD 
(Caressing  her) 

Nettie's  a  good  girl,  but  she  doesn't  love  her  Jo  any 
more  than  I  love  you,  darling. 

STELLA 
But  she's  going  to  watch  Jo  march. 


THE  BLACK  TIE  139 

MRS.  FORD 

All  mothers  love  their  children,  only  their  lives  are 
different. 

STELLA 
(Persistently) 
Why  are  they  different? 

MRS.  FORD 
They  are  not  born  the  same. 

STELLA 
Is  there  a  different  stork  for  some  girls? 

MRS.  FORD 
You're  too  young  to  understand  yet. 

STELLA 

That's  what  you  always  tell  me.     (Suddenly)  But 
would  you  cry  if  daddy  hadn't  let  me  parade  to-day? 

MRS.  FORD 

I'd  be  sorry,  of  course,  but  it  wouldn't  be  some 
thing  to  cry  over. 

STELLA 

Nettie'd   cry,   wouldn't   she,    if  you  didn't   let  her 
Jo  march? 

MRS.  FORD 
But  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  that,  dear. 


THE  BLACK  TIE 

FORD 

Stella,  come  here.  (She  goes  to  him  as  he  puts  his 
arm  around  her.)  You  must  never  think  your  mother 
doesn't  love  you.  When  people  have  a  great  many 
things  in  their  lives,  these  little  matters  can't  mean 
as  much  as  it  does  to  those  who  have  only  a  few  things 
to  interest  them.  You  see,  dear,  your  mother  has  so 
much  and  Nettie  has  so  little.  That's  why  the  parade 
means  more  to  Nettie. 


STELLA 

Is  that  why  she's  crazy  to  see  her  Jo  march  and 
mama  doesn't  want  to  see  me  march  ? 

MRS.  FORD 
Oh,  the  questions  of  children. 

FORD 
Hadn't  you  better  watch  out  for  the  car,  Stella? 

STELLA 

All  right.     Only  I  wish  some  one  would  explain 
things  to  me.    A  girl's  got  so  much  to  learn. 

(STELLA  goes,  half -pouting,  to  the  bay-window 
and  looks  out.  MRS.  FORD  smiles  and  makes 
a  half-amused  gesture  to  FORD,  w ho  shrugs  his 
shoulders  and  resumes  reading.  MRS.  FORD 
glances  over  at  STELLA  and  becomes  thought- 


THE  BLACK  TIE  141 

MRS.  FORD 
Have  you  found  out  the  time  for  sure,  Tom?     I'd 

hate  to  have  the  children  late. 

FORD 

Yes,  here  it  is.  Nettie  was  right.  It's  at  three. 
(He  starts  at  something  he  has  seen  in  the 
paper,  motions  her  to  come  nearer  so  STELLA 
wont  hear,  and  points  to  the  paper.  MRS. 
FORD  takes  it,  reads  it,  and  then  lowers  it 
slowly.  They  look  at  each  other,  apparently 
moved  by  what  they  have  read.) 

MRS.  FORD 
(Quietly) 

That's  too  cruel.    It  can't  be  true. 

FORD 

The  newspapers  are  always  right  with  this  sort  of 
news. 

MRS.  FORD 

Why  don't  you  telephone  and  see  ?    You  might  catch 
Mr.  Gray  son. 

FORD 

(Getting  'phone  book) 
Will  he  know? 

MRS.  FORD 

He'd  know  that.      (Shaking  her  head)   I  can't  be 
lieve  it.     (Calling)  Stella. 


142  THE  BLACK  TIE 

STELLA 
Yes,  mama. 

MRS.  FORD 

Get  your  hat  and  see  if  you  can  put  it  on  yourself 
nicely. 

(STELLA  goes  out  in,  back.     FORD  waits  till 
she  has  gone.) 

FORD 

(At  'phone) 
North  312. 

(MRS.  FORD  puts  the  paper  down  on  the  chair 
and  comes  half  anxiously  beside  him.) 
Hello.  .  .  .  Give  me  Mr.  Grayson.  .  .  .  Hello,  Gray- 
son,  this  is  Ford.  Yes,  Secretary  Ford.  ...  I  want 
to  ask  whether  that  story  in  the  afternoon  paper  is 
true?  No:  the  one  about  the  colored  children  not 
being  allowed  to  parade  with  the  white  children.  .  .  . 
I  don't  want  to  hear  the  reason — just  if  it's  true.  Oh! 
.  .  .  That's  all.  .  .  .  Good-by.  (He  hangs  up  the 
receiver.)  It's  true,  Netha. 

MRS.  FORD 
That's  too  bad. 

(They  look  at  each  other  as  NETTIE  is  heard 
outside.) 

NETTIE 

Come  along,  Jo;  don't  be  scared.    They  asked  to  see 
you.     Come. 


THE  BLACK  TIE  143 

(NETTIE  enters  holding  Jo's  hand.)  Jo  is  about 
eight,  and  darker  than  his  mother.  He  has  on 
a  white  suit  with  a  shiny  patent-leather  belt  and 
a  large  black  tie. 

They  stand  there:  a  look  of  pride  upon  NET 
TIE'S  face  as  Jo  grins  and  leans  shyly  against 
her.  The  Fords  are  nonplussed  and  stare  at 
each  other.) 

Jo  is  scared.    Make  a  bow  and  say  good-afternoon,  Jo. 
(Jo  grins  and  draws  nearer  his  mother  again.) 

MRS.  FORD 

(Trying  to  find  words) 
Good-afternoon,  Jo. 

NETTIE 
(Smiling) 

I  reckon,  Mrs.  Ford,  I'll  see  him  with  that  black 
tie  on. 


MRS.  FORD 
Yes,  yes.    Where  did  you  get  it? 

NETTIE 

I've  had  it  for  years.  It  was  a  scarf  which  my  old 
mother  had  from  her  master's  wife  before  the  war.  I 
never  could  wear  it  myself  somehow,  so  I  cut  and  sewed 
it  all  week  for  Jo.  It  is  old,  but  black,  somehow  don't 
ever  wear  out. 


144  THE  BLACK  TIE 

FORD 

(To  himself) 
Black 


MRS.  FORD 
(Nervously) 
How  pretty?     Isn't  it,  dear? 

FORD 

(Moved  by  the  situation) 
Yes,  yes. 

NETTIE 

(Beaming  proudly  throughout) 
I  made  this  here  white  duck  from  some  old  pants  of 
yours  you  had  throwed  away,  Mr.  Ford.  They  look 
so  well  with  his  face,  but  they  speck  so.  (Shaking  Jo 
half  admonishingly,  aside.)  You've  gone  and  got  your 
shoes  I  shined  twice  this  morning  all  dirty  again. 
Why  did  you  do  that? 

(She  kneels  quickly  and  brushes  off  the  shoes 
as  Jo  smiles.  Then  she  recalls  where  she  isf  and 
rises,  e  m  barrassed. ) 

Excuse  me,  Mrs.  Ford.  This  here  boy  is  all  I've 
got  in  the  world.  He's  a  good  boy,  minds  all  I  say, 
except  once  in  a  while.  (Jo  grins.)  I  was  afraid  it 
would  rain  to-day.  Jo  and  I  have  looked  forward  to 
this  parade  so.  I  tell  Jo  it's  to  glorify  God  that  he's 
marching — 'cause  if  there  wasn't  no  God,  Jo  couldn't 
parade  to-day. 


THE  BLACK  TIE  145 

MRS.  FORD 
(With  appeal) 
Tom. 

FORD 
(After  a  helpless  effort,  as  he  watches  NETTIE 

straighten  Jo's  tie) 
Nettie,  you're  quite  sure  Jo  isn't  too  tired  to  march  ? 

NETTIE 
(Proudly) 

Tired?  Jo  tired?  Only  this  morning  he  raced 
Mr.  Thompson's  boy,  Master  Jack,  off  his  feet.  And 
Master  Jack  is  some  runner,  isn't  he,  Jo?  (Jo  grins.) 
Jo's  got  good  blood  in  him,  though  his  father  didn't 
amount  to  much,  and  muscle.  Put  your  arm  up,  Jo. 
(He  does  so.)  When  he  grows  up,  he'll  be  too  strong 
for  words.  It  most  breaks  my  arms  now  to  spank  him. 
(Jo  grins  again.)  Hasn't  never  been  sick  a  day  neither 
and 

FORD 

(Interrupting  kindly) 

I  was  wondering,  Nettie,  if — if  instead  of  the  pa 
rade  this  afternoon,  you  wouldn't  like  to  take  Jo  for 
a  long  automobile  ride  in  the  country — after  you  took 
Stella  down? 

MRS.  FORD 
(Quickly) 

Yes,  do,  Nettie.    We  won't  need  the  car  and 


H6  THE  BLACK  TIE 

NETTIE 

(With  a  certain  quiet  dignity) 
Thank  you,  Mrs.  Ford.    But  Jo  is  going  to  parade 
for  the  glory  of  God,  ain't  you,  Jo? 

FORD 

( Turning  aside) 
For  the  glory  of  God! 

(STELLA  comes  running  in  excitedly  with  her 
hat  on.) 

STELLA 
The  car's  here.    Hurry,  Nettie,  get  your  hat  on. 

NETTIE 

Yes,  Miss  Stella.     (Starting  toward  door)     Come 
along,  Jo. 

FORD 

(At  a  motion  from   MRS.  FORD) 
Nettie. 

STELLA 

(Impatiently) 

Don't  stop  Nettie,  dad ;  it's  getting  late  and 

FORD 
(With  difficulty  throughout  and  trying  to  soften  his 

words) 

Nettie,  I — I  am  afraid,  after  all,  you  had  better  let 
Mrs.  Ford  take  Stella  down. 


THE  BLACK  TIE  147 

STELLA 
(Eagerly) 
You're  going  with  me,  mother? 

MRS.  FORD 
(Glancing  at  FORD) 
Yes,  I'll  take  you  down. 

STELLA 

But,  mama,  you  promised  to  let  Nettie  and  Jo  go 
with  me,  and  if  they  walk  down  now,  they'll  be  late. 

NETTIE 
We  can  hurry,  can't  we,  Jo? 

FORD 

Nettie,  I'm  sorry  but — very  sorry,  but  I'm  afraid  you 
misunderstood  about  Jo  and  the  parade. 

(NETTIE    looks    up    quickly    and   instinctively 
draivs  Jo  closer  to  her.) 

The  paper  says  they've  changed  their  plans  at  the 
last  moment  and — and 

MRS.  FORD 

Don't  worry,  Nettie.  Maybe  sometime  soon  again 
they'll  have  a  parade  just  for  the  little  colored  chil 
dren. 

NETTIE 

(Not  understanding) 

Just  for  the  little  colored  children?  But  his  teacher 
said 


148  THE  BLACK  TIE 

FORD 

(With    reluctance) 

I  know.     But  to-day's  parade  is  only  for  the  little 
white  children. 

NETTIE 
(Slowly) 

For  the  little  white  children? 

STELLA 
They're  not  going  to  let  Jo  march  to-day? 

FORD 

(Shaking  his  head  slowly) 
Not  to-day,  Nettie. 

NETTIE 

(With  a  fierce  primitive  cry  of  pain) 
Oh!!! 

MRS.  FORD 
You  don't  care,  Nettie,  if 


NETTIE 
(Poignantly) 
Don't  care? 

MRS.  FORD 
(Confused) 
I  mean — oh! 

(There  is  a  pause  as  NETTIE  slowly   regains 
her  calm.     But  an  inscrutable  look  has  come 


THE  BLACK  TIE  149 

into  her  face,  as  she  stares  before  her,  clutching 
her  boy  close  in  her  skirt,  so  that  he  is  almost 
hidden.  The  others  can  say  nothing  at  the 
poignancy  of  the  grief  they  have  just  wit 
nessed.  ) 

STELLA 
(Quietly) 
Dad? 

FORD 
Yes,  Stella. 

STELLA 
Why  can't  Jo  go? 

FORD 

(Hesitates,  as  he  looks  at  NETTIE,  still  staring  inscruta 
bly  before  her) 
Because 

STELLA 

But  Jo  goes  to  his  Sunday-school,  too,  like  I  go  to 
mine.  And  he  has  never  missed  a  Sunday  in  three 
years — Nettie  told  you.  Why  won't  they  let  him 
march?  Is  there  something  he  has  done  that  he 
shouldn't,  and  they  are  punishing  him? 


FORD 
No,  no.     It's  nothing  he  has  done. 


150  THE  BLACK  TIE 

STELLA 
Then,  why  do  they  punish  him? 

MRS.  FORD 
Stella! 

STELLA 

{After  a  pause,  going  to  Jo) 

I  am  sorry,  Jo.  There  are  so  many  things  we  boys 
and  girls  won't  know  till  we  grow  up.  I  am  sorry  you 
can't  parade  to-day. 

(Jo  starts  to  cry.  At  the  first  sound  NETTIE 
hushes  him  imperatively  and  then,  with  her 
former  impenetrable  calm,  speaks  kindly  to 
STELLA.) 

NETTIE 
Are  you  ready,  Miss  Stella? 

STELLA 

(Eagerly  again) 
Yes;  we'd  better  hurry. 

MRS.  FORD 

I'll  take  her  downtown,  Nettie.  Wait  for  me  till  I 
get  my  hat,  Stella. 

NETTIE 

You  go  down  and  wait  for  me,  Jo.  I'll  get  your  hat 
for  you,  Mrs.  Ford. 

(NETTIE  goes  out,  without  a  word,  into  the 
room  in  back,  as  STELLA  goes  over  to  Jo 
who,  standing  by  the  door,  looks  crestfallen.) 


THE  BLACK  TIE  151 

STELLA 
(Kindly) 

Come  along  with  me,  Jo,  and  see  me  get  in  the  car. 
Come.  (Taking  his  hand.)  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it 
when  I  come  back  and  I'll  bring  you  my  flag  with  the 
white  cross  on  it,  so  you  can  always  keep  it. 

( The  children  go  out  together,  hand  in  hand. 
FORD  looks  at  the  paper  silently,  then  throws  it 
aside. ) 

MRS.  FORD 
(Shaking  her  head) 

It's  almost  too  big  for  words,  when  one  sees  it  like 
this,  isn't  it?  But  I  suppose  poor  little  Jo  would  have 
to  learn,  sooner  or  later,  things  are  different  for  him. 

FORD 
(Bitterly) 

"  For  the  glory  of  God!  "  I  wonder  what  would 
happen  if  Christ  should  come  back — colored ! 

MRS.  FORD 

Tom!  You  say  the  most  shocking  things!  It's 
horrible.  But  you  know  we  can't  alter  life. 

NETTIE 
(Re-entering  quietly  with  the  hat  and  hatpins,  which 

she  hands  to  MRS.  FORD) 
Your  hat,  Mrs.  Ford. 


152  THE  BLACK  TIE 

MRS.  FORD 

Thank  you,  Nettie.  (Putting  it  on)  I  wish  I  had 
my  hand-mirror.  (NETTIE  starts  to  get  one)  Never 
mind,  this  will  do.  Good-by,  Tom. 

FORD 
I'll  see  you  and  Stella  off. 

MRS.  FORD 
We'd  better  hurry.     She'll  be  late. 

(They  start  as  though  to  say  something  to 
NETTIE  but  seem  at  loss  for  words.  Then 
they  go  out. 

NETTIE  is  left  alone.  She  stands  for  a  sec 
ond  and  then,  without  a  change  of  expression, 
goes  slowly  over  to  the  window  and  pulls  aside 
the  curtains.  She  looks  out  at  the  car  with 
STELLA  in  it,  as  it  apparently  goes  off  to  the 
parade. ) 

[THE  CURTAIN  FALLS] 


CIRCLES 


THE  PEOPLE 

PROFESSOR  JOHN  OWEN. 

ELIZABETH,  his  wife. 

IDA   LAWSON,   their  married  daughter. 

SCENE 

The  sitting-room  at  the  Owens'  in  the  city.     Late  one 
winter  evening. 


CIRCLES* 

;j  COMFORTABLE  sitting-room  is  disclosed. 

y^j  A  door  in  back  opens  on  a  hallway  with  the 
-^  -*•  stairs  leading  to  the  floor  below  just  visible. 
Another  door  at  the  right  opens  on  MRS.  OWEN'S 
bedroom.  A  window  is  at  the  left  near  the  fireplace 
with  its  blazing  logs.  By  this  is  a  large  easy-chair 
close  to  a  table  which  contains  a  lighted  lamp  and  some 
books  and  magazines.  The  sofa  beyond  this,  the  heavy 
rugs,  the  soft  curtains,  the  dull  lambrequin  on  the 
mantel,  supporting  the  inevitable  clock,  and  the  w'ell- 
worn  chairs,  all  seem  to  have  become  part  of  a  room 
which  has  gained  a  homey  atmosphere  with  the  years. 

MRS.  OWEN  is  seated,  intently  reading  a  popular 
novel.  The  clock  strikes  the  half-hour  and  she  looks 
up,  apparently  surprised  at  the  time.  She  puts  down 
the  book  after  placing  a  silver  paper-cutter  in  the  leaves 
to  mark  her  place.  Then  she  rises,  stares  at  the  fire 
thoughtfully,  as  though  fascinated  by  its  cheerful  flame. 

MRS.  OWEX  is  nearing  fifty.  Her  manner  sug 
gests,  somehow,  that  her  repose  is  not  innate,  but  has 
been  acquired  through  long  schooling:  her  face,  too, 
in  spite  of  its  calm  beauty,  seems  to  reflect  the  quiet 
that  has  followed  a  storm.  She  is  dressed  in  a  loose 
gown  which  enhances  her  natural  dignity. 

*  Copyright,  1914,   by  George  Middleton.      All  rights  reserved. 


156  CIRCLES 

As  she  is  standing  there,  IDA,  her  daughter,  enters 
unobserved  and  halts  in  the  doorway,  irresolutely  look 
ing  at  her  mother. 

IDA  LAWSON  is  about  thirty;  calm,  too,  like  her 
mother;  though  one  feels  it  is  but  the  temporary  bit 
upon  a  nervous,  restless  spirit.  She  has  a  pleasing  per 
sonality  not  without  obvious  physical  charm.  She  is 
dressed  in  street  clothes  with  hat  and  furs. 

After  a  pause  she  throws  the  furs  aside.  MRS. 
OWEN,  hearing  her,  turns  in  surprise. 

IDA 
Mother. 

MRS.  OWEN 

Why,  daughter! 

IDA 

I'm  glad  you  are  here. 

MRS.  OWEN 

(As  they  kiss} 
We  seldom  go  out  now.    I  was  just  going  to  bed. 

IDA 

Was  it  father's  light  I  saw  in  the  library? 

MRS.  OWEN 

Yes,  he's  reading,  as  usual.  He  likes  a  cold  room, 
you  know.  Didn't  you  stop? 


CIRCLES  i57 

IDA 

No;  I  came  right  up.      (Trying  to  appear  casual) 
What's  he  reading? 

MRS.  OWEN 
How  should  /  kno\v?      (Seeing  IDA  take  off  her 

hat)   Anything  the  matter? 

IDA 
I've  come  to  spend  the  night  with  you. 

MRS.  OWEN 

Oh,  that's  nice.  It's  never  been  the  same  here  these 
six  years  since  you  and  Curtis  were  married.  Is  he 
well? 

IDA 
Yes. 

MRS.  OWEN 

I've  been  reading  that  novel  he  loaned  me.  (Show 
ing  it  to  her.)  He  said  it  was  very  interesting. 

IDA 

It  bored  me  to  death. 

(There  is  a  pause.) 

MRS.  OWEN 

Has  Curtis  gone  away  on  business? 

IDA 

No. 


158  CIRCLES 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Surprised) 
But  if  your  husband's  home ? 

IDA 

(Evasively) 
I  thought  I'd  like  a  change. 

MRS.  OWEN 

I'll  tell  Frances  to  air  your  old  room. 

IDA 
I  did  when  she  took  up  my  bag. 

MRS.  OWEN 

How  I  hated  to  have  you  leave  that  old  room  of 
yours.  Nothing's  been  changed  since  the  day  of  your 
marriage. 

IDA 

I  was  full  of  wonder  then.  It  will  seem  strange 
sleeping  there  again — with  what  I  know  now. 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Intuitively) 
Is  anything  the  matter? 

IDA 

No.     (Crossing  to  the  fire.)     My  hands  are  cold. 

MRS.  OWEN 

And  little  Helen? 


CIRCLES  159 

IDA 


I  left  her  asleep. 


MRS.  OWEN 
Is  she  quite  well  again? 

IDA 
Yes,  her  cough  is  all  gone. 

MRS.  OWEN 

You  were  so  susceptible  to  colds,  too.     You  must 
tell  her  nurse  to  be  more  careful  these  damp  days. 

IDA 

(Thoughtfully) 
Helen  is  like  me  in  many  ways,  isn't  she? 

MRS.  OWEN 
Yes:  but  I  wouldn't  worry. 

IDA 
Were  you  like  your  mother? 

MRS.  OWEN 

What  a  funny  question. 

IDA 

(Curiously) 
But  were  you? 


160  CIRCLES 

MRS.  OWEN 

I'm   afraid   not:   your   grandmother  was  too  self- 
willed.     At  least  that's  what  my  father  used  to  say. 

IDA 

(Absently) 
What  a  circle  life  is. 

MRS.  OWEN 
(Gently) 

But  you  didn't  come  this  time  of  night  to  talk  of 
circles,  did  you? 

IDA 

No. 

MRS.  OWEN 
Then  there  is  something  the  matter. 

IDA 
I'll  tell  you  to-morrow. 

MRS.  OWEN 

Why  not  now? 

IDA 

(Trying  to  dismiss  it) 
You're  tired  and  it's  late. 

MRS.  OWEN 
(Pleading  quietly) 
We  have  had  so  few  talks  together,  Ida. 


CIRCLES  161 

IDA 

But  it's — it's  always,  somehow,  been  so  hard  to  tell 
you  things, 

MRS.  OWEN 
(Hurt) 

Hard  to  tell  your  own  mother? 

IDA 

It  may  be  naturally  hard  for  me  to  confide  in  any 
body. 

MRS.  OWEN 
Perhaps,  then,  I'd  better  call  your  father. 

IDA 

(In  spite  of  herself) 
He  always  freezes  me  so. 

MRS.  OWEN 
Ida! 

IDA 
Just  leave  me  alone  to-night. 

MRS.  OWEN 

I  know  you  don't  mean  to  be  unkind. 

IDA 

Don't  mind  me — I 


1 62  CIRCLES 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Shaking  her  head) 

I  can't  make  you  out ;  it  worries  me ;  for  who  should 
know  you  better  than  your  mother.  (!DA  turns  away.) 
Your  father  and  I  both  love  you  so.  You've  always 
been  everything  to  us — our  only  child.  You  know 
what  it  is  to  have  an  only  child,  too.  (!DA  looks  at 
her  in  question  as  MRS.  OWEN  goes  to  her.)  If  little 
Helen  were  troubled,  would  you  want  her  to  go  to  any 
body  but  you?  And  if  she  didn't ? 

IDA 

( Uncomfortably) 
Don't,  mother. 

MRS.  OWEN 

Perhaps  you'd  better  go  to  bed.  I  know  you've 
been  worried  about  Helen's  cold,  but — tell  me  in  the 
morning  if  you  wish.  Good-night,  dear. 

IDA 

I  can't  sleep  now.  ( There  is  a  pause.  Then  she 
speaks  abruptly.)  Mother,  I've  left  Curtis. 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Startled) 
Left  your  husband?     No,  that's  not  possible. 

IDA 

Why  not?  (Grimly)  Things  are  finished  in  this 
world. 


CIRCLES  163 

MRS.  OWEN 
Nothing  ever  is — nothing. 

IDA 
(Firmly) 

This  is. 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Starts  to  protest  and  then  halts) 
That  tone  of  yours  makes  me  shiver.     It  was  the 
way  your  grandmother  had  at  times.    I  heard  it  in  your 
voice  once  before :  the  night  you  told  us  you  were  going 
to  be  married. 

IDA 

When  you  and  father  tried  to  argue  me  out  of  it. 
You  didn't  want  to  be  left  alone  here.  I  remember 
how  determined  I  felt  then,  too.  Now  I've  left 
Curtis.  And  I've  come  back  to  you.  Isn't  it  all 
funny  ? 

MRS.  OWEN 

But 

IDA 

(Interrupting) 

It's  no  use,  mother.  It  won't  be  as  hard  as  you 
think.  Making  up  my  mind  is  what  has  worn  me  out. 
Now  I've  got  hold  of  myself.  I  see  what  I  must  do. 
I'm  going  to  use  my  brain  for  once  straight  through. 
I've  only  followed  my  impulses  before:  they've  made  a 
fool  of  me. 


i64  CIRCLES 

MRS.  OWEN 

Dear,  you  said  yourself  you  were  tired.  You  can't 
see  clearly.  You're  not  yourself. 

IDA 
Then  who  am  I? 

(MRS.  OWEN  looks  at  her  and  shakes  her  head 
sadly  as  JOHN  OWEN  enters  softly.^ 

OWEN  is  in  the  early  sixties,  super-refined, 
rather  precise  in  enunciation,  and  he  suggests 
in  both  manner  and  appearance  a  certain  cold 
ness  of  exterior.  He  is  entirely  devoid  of  dis 
cernible  emotion.  He  has  on  eye-glasses  at 
tached  to  a  black  cord,  and  wears  a  smoking- 
jacket,  though  he  has  not  taken  off  his  collar 
or  made  himself  otherwise  comfortable.) 

OWEN 

Frances  informed  me  you  were  here,  daughter.  Why 
didn't  you  come  in  and  see  me  ? 

IDA 

(Somewhat  restrained  as  they  kiss) 
You  never  like  to  be  disturbed  when  you  are  reading. 

OWEN 

(Rather  didactically) 

Bergson  bores  me  anyway:  he  is  trying  to  under 
mine  intellect  with  his  emphasis  on  intuition.  There 
is  nothing  logical  about  intuition  though  it  gains  its 
end  by  leaping  over  dark  places.  It's  a  purely  femi- 


CIRCLES        .  165 

nine  endowment ;  a  defense  against  man's  muscularity ; 
but,  on  the  whole 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Interrupting,  to  his  obvious  displeasure) 
Ida's  come  to  spend  the  night. 

OWEN 

Indeed? 

IDA 

I  suppose  you  also  want  to  know  the  reason.    You'll 
have  to  know  later,  anyway. 

MRS.  OWEN 
(Nervously) 

To-morrow,  Ida:  your  father  is  tired. 

OWEN 

(Irritably  to  MRS.  OWEN) 

I  am  still  capable  of  expressing  my  own  sensations, 
Elizabeth. 

IDA 

(Half  to  herself) 
And  here  is  where  I  grew  up! 

MRS.  OWEN 
She  and  Curtis  have — Oh,  it  isn't  true! 

IDA 

I'm  not  going  to  live  with  Curtis  any  more.     I've 
left  him. 


1 66  CIRCLES 

OWEN 

(Takes  off  his  glasses  and  motions  with  them  through 
out  as  he  looks  at  her  in  growing  astonishment) 
Left  your  husband? 

MRS.  OWEN 
I  can't  believe  it,  either. 

IDA 

Father,  I  know  my  own  mind.  I'm  not  a  child; 
I'm  thirty;  I'm  married;  I'm  a  mother.  I've  left  my 
husband  for  good.  I'll  never  live  with  him  again, 
never. 

OWEN 

There's  no  need  to  get  excited. 

IDA 
I  want  you  to  see  quite  clearly  I  mean  what  I  say. 

OWEN 

(After  a  pause) 

I  can't  believe  it.  Left  your  husband?  What's 
the  trouble?  (With  a  logical  air  as  though  it  were 
a  theorem.)  Sit  down  and  let  me  have  the  facts:  then 
we  can  discuss  the  matter  clearly. 

IDA 

(With  a  touch  of  emotion) 
Oh,  why  didn't  you  simply  take  me  in  your  arms? 


CIRCLES  167 

MRS.  OWEN 
(To  OWEX) 

Don't  be  unkind  to  her.    This  has  upset  her. 

OWEX 

(With  some  asperity) 

These  women !  I  don't  mean  to  be  unkind,  Eliza 
beth.  I  understand  her  feelings.  But  somebody  must 
keep  his  head.  You  women  fly  off  so.  I  cannot  give 
her  any  advice  unless  I  know  the  facts. 

IDA 
I  didn't  come  for  advice. 

OWEN 

Then,  why  did  you  come? 

IDA 
I  had  to  go  somewhere,  didn't  I? 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Comforting  her) 
You  did  quite  right  to  come  to  those  who  can  help. 

IDA 

(With  a  catch  in  her  voice) 
I  don't  want  help! 

OWEN 

(With  a  quiet  persistence) 
But  misunderstandings  happen  in  the  best  marriages. 


168  CIRCLES 

They  can  generally  be  straightened  out  if  people  will 
only  talk  them  over. 

IDA 

Talk,  talk!  Curtis  and  I  have  talked  for  months. 
I'm  sick  to  death  of  talk.  I  just  want  to  draw  myself 
under  a  cover  and  sleep.  Oh,  to  sleep  in  the  dark! 

(IDA  has  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 
There  is  a  pause  as  the  others  seem  at  a  loss, 
though  OWEN  is  a  trifle  impatient.  MRS. 
OWEN  finally  goes  to  her.) 

MRS.  OWEN 

Can't  you  let  your  father  help  you  ? 

OWEN 

(With  reserve) 
If  she  doesn't  feel  that  I  am  capable 

IDA 

(In  a  matter-of-fact  tone) 
What  do  you  wish  to  know? 

OWEN 

You  might  take  a  less  impersonal  tone,  daughter.  I 
don't  wish  to  probe. 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Trying  to  soothe  the  situation) 
Don't  make  it  difficult  for  your  father,  dear.     You 
know  how  he  hates  to  sho\v  his  feelings. 


CIRCLES  169 

IDA 

Since  I've  come  back  to  you  I  suppose  it's  not  quite 
square  to  be  silent. 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Relieved} 
She'll  tell  you  now,  John. 

OWEN 

Is  it  more  than  a  misunderstanding? 

IDA 

It's  everything.  I  wasn't  a  foolish  romantic  girl 
when  we  married.  I  didn't  expect  too  much.  But  he 
and  I  can't  even  be  friends. 

MRS.  OWEN 
(Quickly) 

There  is  somebody  else? 

IDA 

That's  what  everybody  thinks  nowadays  when  a 
marriage  goes  wrong. 

MRS.  OWEN 
(Enigmatically) 

One  generally  realizes  then. 

(IDA  eyes  her  with  an  intuitive  flash  of  under 
standing.} 

OWEN 

Are  you  trying  to  protect  your  husband  ? 


i;o  CIRCLES 

IDA 

Why  should  I?  I'm  no  longer  proud.  The  law 
would  say  he  was  guilty. 

MRS.  OWEN 
Oh,  the  shame! 

IDA 

(Quickly) 

But  I'm  not  sure  the  fault  is  his.  The  law  doesn't 
seem  to  consider  temperaments,  does  it?  We're  all 
in  one  mold.  Perhaps  I'm  to  blame.  Who  knows? 

MRS,  OWEN 

(Shocked) 
Our  daughter  to  blame? 

OWEN 

What  are  you  saying? 

IDA 

What  few  of  us  who  get  the  'divorces  are  willing  to 
acknowledge :  our  part  in  the  guilt. 

OWEN 

(More  seriously) 
You're  thinking  of  getting  a  divorce? 

IDA 

(  With  determination ) 
Yes;  it's  fairer  to  him. 


CIRCLES  171 

MRS.  OWEN 

Oh,  Ida,  perhaps  it  may  not  have  to  be  that:  it's  so 
awful. 

IDA 

I  know  how  unpleasant  notoriety  is  to  our  family. 
That's  the  penalty  of  father's  importance.  I  thought 
the  fact  that  Curtis  had  other  women  would  be  enough 
to  make  you  accept  it  easily. 

(MRS.  OWEN  turns  away.) 

OWEN 

Are  you  quite  sure  you  have  thought  over  what  a 
divorce  would  mean? 

IDA 

I  never  thought  of  it  till  it  became  my  personal 
question.  If  that's  what  you  have  in  mind. 

OWEN 

(Shaking  his  head) 

But  it's  not  your  question  alone.  That's  my  point. 
Society 

IDA 
(Sharply) 

Father,  I  can't  be  sociological. 

MRS.  OWEN 

Then,  what  about  Helen? 


172  CIRCLES 

IDA 

(Calmly) 
I  shall  send  for  her  to-morrow. 


MRS.  OWEN 

(Alarmed) 
You  are  going  to  separate  her  from  Curtis  ? 

OWEN 

Don't  be  foolish,  Elizabeth;  if  Ida  has  determined 
on  a  divorce  and  her  husband  has  been  guilty  with 
other  women 

IDA 
(Quickly) 

I  wouldn't  resort  to  such  a  trick. 

OWEN 

Trick? 

IDA 

(Scornfully) 

Do  you  feel  that  Helen  is  mine,  just  because  my 
husband  happened  to  break  the  law,  the  ridiculous  law 
which  declares  he  can't  be  a  good  father  to  Helen  be 
cause  of  his  episodes? 

MRS.  OWEN 
(Shocked) 

Episodes?     Is  that  what  you  call  them? 


CIRCLES  173 

IDA 

What  else  can  I  call  them,  when  I  see  they  haven't 
changed  or  influenced  his  life  one  bit?  Surely  you 
know,  father,  how  unimportant  such  experiences  often 
may  be  to  a  man  like  Curtis. 

OWEN 

(Fundamentally  offended) 

I  know  nothing  of  the  sort!  You  ought  to  be 
ashamed  to  make  such  remarks  before  your  mother. 
If  you  don't  think  his  episodes  mean  anything,  why- 
are  you  denying  him  his  right  to  Helen  ? 

IDA 

Because  Helen  belongs  to  me,  not  to  him.  I  carried 
her  alone.  He  went  away  during  most  of  my  time. 
My  condition  offended  him.  She's  mine  because  Curtis 
didn't  sit  by  my  side  when  Helen  was  born;  because 
he  didn't  suffer  through  seeing  me  suffer.  All  he 
was  willing  to  give  to  parenthood  was  a  man's  mo 
mentary  pleasure:  I  gave  pain — such  long  pain.  Why, 
during  all  those  months  he  never  even  warmed  me 
with  his  hands. 

OWEN 
(Shocked) 

What  do  you  know  of  a  man's  feelings  at  such  a 
time? 

IDA 

I'd  like  to  know  about  other  men.  (She  goes  im 
pulsively  to  MRS.  OWEN.)  Mother,  when  7  was  born, 


174  CIRCLES 

did  father ?     (MRS.  OWEN  is  startled.)     Never 

mind,  don't  answer.  How  foolish  of  me !  I  might  have 
known.  We're  wasting  time  talking — talking.  How 
I  hate  words! 

(She   turns   towards   the   fire   again,   half  ab 
sorbed.  ) 

MRS.  OWEN 

Don't  reproach  your  father,  Ida;  he — he  was  very 
good  to  me  when  I  really  didn't  deserve  it. 

OWEN 
(Quietly) 

Elizabeth,  that's  not  to  the  point. 

MRS.  OWEN 

(With  a  certain  strength) 

It  is.  Ida  thinks  because  a  thing  is  new  that  it  is 
right;  that  you  and  I  have  foolish  ideas  on  marriage 
and  divorce.  She  doesn't  know  how  we 

OWEN 

(Stopping  her) 
Elizabeth! 

IDA 

(Turning  to  them  desperately} 

Mother,  mother;  what  do  you  both  want  me  to  do? 

What  are  you  both  arguing  with  me  this  way  for? 

Do  you  think  it  easy  for  me  to  acknowledge  failure,  to 

take  up  a  new  life,  alone,  when  I'm  not  prepared  for 


CIRCLES  175 

it?  Oh,  why  is  it  we  three  can't  talk  together  with 
out  cutting  ourselves  with  every  word?  I  know 
it's  difficult  for  you  to  have  me  submitted  to  all  that 
must  follow:  the  talk,  the  stripping  of  my  private  af 
fairs  before  a  court  which  has  no  right  to  know,  the 
newspapers,  the  headlines,  the  story  played  up  out  of 
all  proportion  to  its  worth.  I've  thought  of  all  that; 
but  it  seems  so  unimportant  now.  (Going  to  her.) 
Does  it  hurt  you  so  much  to  have  me  leave  Curtis, 
when  you  see  he  and  I  haven't  a  single  thing  in  com 
mon? 

MRS.  OWEN 

You  have  Helen! 

OWEN 

Yes:  have  you  forgotten  your  daughter? 

MRS.  OWEX 
(  Taking  her  hands) 

Oh,  Ida,  in  spite  of  everything  you  say,  I  think 
divorce  is  terrible  when  there  is  a  little  child  depend 
ing  on  you  both. 

IDA 
(She  looks  at  the  two  and  then  slowly  sits  down  as 

though  stunned) 

Strange!  That's  why  I  thought  it  terrible  to  stay. 
You're  shocked  because  I  felt  Curtis'  episodes  meant 
nothing;  yet,  in  spite  of  your  feeling  about  them,  you 
still  ask  me  to  stay  with  him  for  Helen's  sake! 


1 76  CIRCLES 

OWEN 

(  Uncomfortably) 
Yes,  for  the  sake  of  your  child. 

IDA 
Is  that  a  man's  point  of  view? 

MRS.  OWEN 
It  is  mine,  too,  Ida. 

IDA 
You  feel  as  strongly  as  that! 

MRS.  OWEN 

(  Thinking  IDA  is  weakening) 
What's  to  prevent  your  making  another  try  together? 

OWEN 

Wait  a  while,  anyway.  Don't  be  hasty.  Take  the 
time  to  consider.  Stay  here  with  us  a  bit  and 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Pleading) 

Your  father's  right:  we're  older;  we've  lived;  we 
know.  Try  to  patch  things  up.  Perhaps  in  time 

IDA 

(With  pointed  abruptness} 

Mother,  have  you  asked  yourself  why  Curtis  went 
outside?  Why  I  couldn't  hold  him?  Why  I  did  not 
want  to  hold  him? 


CIRCLES  i77 

MRS.  OWEN 


Ida! 


IDA 

It  is  because — because  we  both  made  a  terrible  mis 
take — totally  misread  ourselves.  I  do  not  love  Curtis. 
I  see  I  never  have  loved  him. 

OWEN 

Never  loved  him?    Then,  why  did  you  marry  him? 

IDA 

(Enigmatically) 

Some  day  I  may  tell  you.  I  didn't  understand 
then.  I  do  now. 

MRS.  OWEN 

Why,  you  wouldn't  even  listen  to  us  when  we  tried 
to  dissuade  you  against 

IDA 

That,  too,  I  didn't  understand  at  the  time. 
(Slowly)  I  must  be  careful  not  to  make  another  mis 
take. 

OWEN 

Mistake  to  keep  a  home  for  your  child  with  her 
father? 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Poignantly) 
You  think  that  a  mistake  ? 


i;8  CIRCLES 

IDA 
(With  a  certain  desperation  as  they  stand  shocked  and 

confused  by  her  words) 

How  can  I  give  the  child  a  home  when  Curtis  and 
I  do  not  love  each  other?  Didn't  you  ever  think  of  it 
in  that  way?  I  have.  That's  the  real  reason  I'm 
leaving.  I  can't  give  her  a  real  home  with  Curtis! 
I  don't  want  the  child  to  grow  up  in  just  a  place. 
She  deserves  something  more  than  that.  She'd  be 
stifled.  She  couldn't  be  free.  She'd  be  pressed  down 
by  our  unhappiness.  She'd  detect  our  restlessness. 
She'd  not  have  the  peace  her  childhood  has  the  right  to 
ask.  Curtis  and  I  would  differ  on  everything  about 
her  as  we'd  differ  on  everything  else.  We  have  al 
ready.  That's  what  suddenly  frightened  me  after 
desperately  clinging  for  so  many  months.  I  felt  the 
child  was  being  hurt,  that  she  was  beginning  to  see 
our  unhappiness.  I  couldn't  stand  that.  Why,  she 
asked  me  something  to-night  before  she  went  to  sleep 
that  I  had  to  lie  about.  That  would  have  been  the 
beginning.  It  came  over  me  I  must  leave  before  it 
was  too  late.  I  can't  see  her  joy  frozen  again  by  the 
looks  Curtis  and  I  gave  each  other — looks  that  made 
her  ask  the  question.  Somehow  I  felt  her  whole  life 
might  be  shaped  by  those  looks.  I  can't  let  my  little 
child  run  that  risk.  I  can't  and  I  won't. 

OWEN 

(IV ho   has   been   trying  to  get  a  word  in) 
And  do  you  think  you  alone  are  capable  of  supply 
ing  what  a  father  has  to  give? 


CIRCLES  i79 

IDA 

I'm  thinking  that  one  parent  who  loves  her  will  be 
better  for  Helen  than  two  in  the  same  house  who  do 
not  love  each  other! 

MRS.  OWEN 
(Deeply  moved) 
What  is  she  saying? 

OWEN 
(Same) 
She  doesn't  know. 

MRS.  OWEN 
Oh! 

IDA 

And  then  afterwards  when  Helen  grows  up  and 
Curtis  and  I  are  weary,  and  begin  more  and  more  to 
drop  the  mask  before  her,  and  she  sees  and  understands 
fully  and  perhaps  loves  us  both  with  all  her  heart! 
Have  I  the  right  to  offer  her  that  problem?  To  ask 
her  love  to  stretch  over  our  severed  lives,  to  let  her 
feel  she  tied  us  together?  No,  no!  She'd  end  by  si 
lently  reproaching  us  because  we  didn't  respect  her 
right  for  love  in  her  home.  And  all  the  time,  Curtis 
and  I  would  be  desperately  trying  to  keep  her  near  us 
— because  we  would  be  afraid  of  what  would  happen 
to  each  other  when  the  link  was  broken.  And  then  one 
day,  maybe,  something  would  snap  within  her,  and  she'd 
go — to  what?  Oh,  how  I'd  tremble  for  her  if  I  felt 
she  married  to  escape  her  home! 


i8o  CIRCLES 

MRS.  OWEN 
(Poignantly) 
So  that  was  why  you  married  Curtis! 

IDA 
(Seeing  what  she  has  inadvertently  let  slip) 

No.    No. 

MRS.  OWEN 

It  is — it  is! 

IDA 

No! 

MRS.  OWEN 
Oh! 

IDA 

(Realizing  the  situation) 
Well,  then:  yes,  mother:  that  was  why  I  married 

Curtis! 

OWEN 

Ida!     (There  is  an  ominous  pause.) 

IDA 

I  didn't  know  at  the  time  but  I  see  it  now.  I  n&ver 
meant  to  tell  you.  I  didn't  mean  to  hurt  you.  But 
now  you  know  why  I  am  leaving  my  husband.  I — I 
couldn't  stand  the  thought  of  having  my  life  with  him 
as — as  yours  has  been  here. 


CIRCLES  181 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Defensively) 
Our  life? 

IDA 

Oh,  I  know  now  what  it  has  been  all  these  years. 
And  I  couldn't  sit  face  to  face  alone  with  my  husband, 
going  on,  as  you  and  father  have,  through  the  mo 
mentum  of  habit  but  without  love. 

OWEN 

How  dare  you  say  this! 

IDA 

Isn't  it  true?  Didn't  I  live  here?  Didn't  I  see  it 
all  without  understanding  it  ?  Didn't  I  feel  it  ?  ( They 
are  silent.)  Oh,  I  couldn't  go  on  with  Curtis — 
frozen — eyeing  each  other  in  the  silences:  he  with  the 
consciousness  I  had  forgiven  him,  eating  at  his  heart 
and  not  daring  to  leave:  and  I  tricking  myself  with 
the  magnanimity  I  had  displayed  in  forgiving  him  and 
not  wishing  to  lessen  the  beauty  of  my  sacrifice.  That 
sha'n't  be  my  marriage.  Helen  sha'n't  growr  up  there. 
No.  No. 

(There  is  a  silence.  OWEN  has  stared  at  her 
tense  and  silent.  MRS.  OWEN  has  been  cut  by 
each  word  and  finally  sobs,  as  her  husband  goes 
to  her.) 

MRS.  OWEN 

That  my  daughter  could  say  this  to  us — after  all 
we  have  done  for  her! 


1 82  CIRCLES 

OWEN 

Sh!  (With  a  cold  restraint  throughout.)  You'd 
better  go  to  your  room  now,  Ida. 

IDA 

(Diffidently) 

I  had  to  let  you  see  how  I  felt.  You  forced  it  out 
of  me.  Helen  means  everything  to  me.  I  am  doing 
what  I  think  is  best. 

OWEN 

(Restrained) 
That  is  all  one  can  do.    Good-night. 

IDA 

I  have  no  place  to  go.  You'll  let  me  stay  here  for  a 
little  while — even  after  what  I've  said? 

OWEN 

You  are  quite  sure  you  will  be  comfortable  here 
with  your  mother  and  me? 

IDA 
I  sha'n't  be  in  the  way,  shall  I? 

MRS.  OWEN 

No,  no.  You've  cut  me  to  the  quick.  But  all  we 
have  is  yours.  Our  whole  life  together  has  been  for 
you. 

(OwEN  gazes  into  the  fire  with  his  back  turned 
to  them.) 


CIRCLES  183 

IDA 

Mother,     don't    cry.       (She    kneels    beside    MRS. 
OWEN  with  a  burst  of  feeling.)     Oh,  mother,  mother. 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Gathering  her  in  her  arms.) 
My  child. 

IDA 

(After  a  long  silence) 
Oh,  mother,  if  we  could  only  be  close. 

MRS.  OWEN 
How  could  we  be  when  you  think  I've  done  you  a 

great  wrong? 

IDA 

Oh,  can't  we  try?    We  need  each  other  more  than 
ever  now. 

MRS.  OWEN 
I've  always  needed  you. 

IDA 
We're  both  alone  now. 

MRS.  OWEN 

Don't  hurt  your  father:  it's  not  been  easy  for  him 
to  hear  what  you've  just  said. 

IDA 

Father,  will  you  forgive  me? 


1 84  CIRCLES 

OWEN 

(Without  turning) 
I  suppose  one  must  forgive  even  the  truth  at  times. 

IDA 

Why  must  you  and  mother  always  be  so  far  apart? 

MRS.  OWEN 
Hush,  child. 

IDA 

(Looking  slowly  from  one  to  the  other) 
If  it  had  brought  you  two  together,  all  the  sacrifice 
for  me  might  have  been  worth  it. 

MRS.  OWEN 

We  did  what  we  thought  was  best  for  you.     We 
never  expected  you  would  reproach  us. 

IDA 

(Bowing  her  head) 

Mother,  I've  said  I  was  sorry  that  it  slipped  out. 
Can't  you  ever  forgive  me? 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Tenderly) 

Oh,  yes;  because  you  may  have  to  face  the  same 
thing  yourself  some  day. 

IDA 

The  same  thing? 


CIRCLES  185 

MRS.  OWEN 
Yes:  the  reproaches  of  your  child. 

IDA 

(Startled] 
Helen? 

MRS.  OWEN 
Yes. 

IDA 

(As  she  sees  OWEN  turn  and  eye  her) 
Oh,  no!     No!! 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Tenderly) 

How  do  you  know  she  will  not  reproach  you  for 
leaving  her  father  as  you  have  reproached  me  for 
staying  ? 

IDA 
No,  no:  that  couldn't  be! 

OWEN 

How  do  you  know? 

IDA 

(She   looks   toward   him   a   second  and   then    at   her 

mother) 
That  would  be  terrible.    Terrible!! 

MRS.  OWEN 
Yes;  terrible  if  she  judges  you  as  you  have  us. 


1 86  CIRCLES 

IDA 

(Losing  complete  control  of  herself) 
Oh,  mother,  I'm  miserable.  Now  I  see  what  I 
have  said  to  you.  Now  I  know  how  I  hurt  you.  For 
give  me — forgive  me.  (Sobbing.)  I  was  so  sure  I 
was  right  ...  so  sure.  ...  If  she  should  say  such 
things  to  me  I  couldn't  stand  it.  I  love  her  so.  Oh, 
now  I  shall  always  fear  her  reproaches  when  she 
grows  up. 

MRS.  OWEN 

(Comforting  her  and  speaking  with  vision) 
A  woman  never  can  understand  her  mother  till  she 
has  a  child  of  her  own.  (There  is  a  long  pause.) 
Come,  dear.  You  are  worn  out.  You  need  sleep. 
Come.  I'll  go>  to  your  old  room  with  you.  (She  urges 
IDA  to  rise.)  Come.  (She  puts  her  arm  about  IDA 
and  leads  her  toward  the  door.)  Don't  cry,  child. 
You'll  be  sick.  Hush,  dear,  for  my  sake. 

(MRS.  OWEN  and  IDA  go  out  in  back  so  close 
in  each  other's  thoughts  that  they  seem  to  have 
forgotten  OWEN  who  has  stood  almost  imper 
sonally  watching  them.  As  the  door  closes 
after  them  he  smiles  cynically.) 

OWEN 

Huh!     These  women! 

(He  stands  there  with  his  hands  behind  his 
back,  warming  them  before  the  fire.) 

[THE  CURTAIN  FALLS] 


THE  UNBORN 


THE  PEOPLE 

WILTON    BURGESS,   a  fashionable   children  s  photog 
rapher. 

RHY,  his  wife. 
THE  WOMAN. 

SCENE 
At  the  Burgess'  one  winter  evening  about  nine  o'clock. 


THE  UNBORN* 

jf  SIMPLE  cozy  library,  on  the  ground  floor 
f-m  of  a  small  house,  is  disclosed.  A  door  at  the 
•^  -*•  back  opens  on  the  hallway  without.  On  one 
side  large  mahogany  folding  doors  close  off  the  other 
rooms.  A  grate  with  a  dull  fire  is  directly  opposite. 
Before  this,  at  right  angles,  is  a  large  couch  on  which 
BURGESS  is  reclining.  Near  it,  RHY,  his  wife,  sits 
on  a  small,  low  rocker.  A  shaded  lamp  and  some 
candles  softly  light  the  room,  which  is  furnished  in 
quiet  taste:  a  few  pictures  with  dark  frames,  rows  of 
books,  several  tapestry  chairs,  a  piece  of  statuary,  and 
some  ferns  are  to  be  observed. 

WILTON  BURGESS  is  in  his  early  forties,  rather 
good-looking,  of  no  particularly  distinguishing  fea 
tures,  though  his  face  is  a  kind  one  and  he  is  not  devoid 
of  a  certain  sensitiveness  in  speech  and  in  apperception. 
He  is  in  a  dressing-gown  and  slippers.  His  left  arm  is 
bandaged  at  the  wrist  and  at  times  it  seems  to  pain 
him. 

RHY,  though  the  picture  of  health,  has  obviously 
passed  the  first  flush  of  young  womanhood.  She  is  at 
tractive  in  a  quiet  way  with  her  soft  voice  and  gentle 
gestures.  At  present,  however,  she  seems  moody  and 
pensive.  She  wears  a  simple  negligee  and  her  hair 
is  loosely  coiled  for  comfort. 

*  Copyright,  1914,  by  George  Middleton.      All  rights  reserved. 


190  THE  UNBORN 

BURGESS  is  smoking  while  thoughtfully  looking  at 
RHY,  who  has  put  down  her  magazine.    A  bell  is  heard. 

BURGESS 
Was  that  the  bell? 


RHY 

No. 

BURGESS 
Ella's  out? 

RHY 
Yes;  motion  pictures. 


BURGESS 
The  romance  of  the  poor,  eh? 


RHY 

(Sententiously) 
Yes. 

BURGESS 
(Sitting  up) 
What  are  you  thinking  of? 

RHY 

You  and  me. 

BURGESS 
Something  serious? 


THE  UNBORN  191 

RHY 

Perhaps. 

BURGESS 
Out  with  it. 

RHY 
Shall  I? 

BURGESS 

(Relighting  his  cigar) 
Yes. 

RHY 
(Slowly) 

I  was  realizing  it  has  been  a  long  while  since  you 
and  I  have  really  sat  down  quietly  together.  And  I 
suppose  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  accident  yesterday 

BURGESS 
Nonsense. 

RHY 

(Anxiously) 

Oh,  you  will  be  careful  crossing  the  streets. 
Promise. 

BURGESS 

(Feeling  his  bandaged  wrist) 

Don't  worry,  dear.  Lots  of  people  escape  auto 
mobiles.  It's  becoming  an  American  instinct. 


192  THE  UNBORN 

RHY 

Don't  jest  about  it.  You  jest  so  much  at  everything 
I  say.  I  might  almost  suspect  you're  doing  it  to  hide 
your  feelings—  if—  (Impulsively)  Oh,  you  do  love  me 
just  the  same,  don't  you? 

BURGESS 
(Puzzled) 
What  are  you  talking  of,  Rhy? 

RHY 
Have  you  been  disappointed  in  me? 

BURGESS 
Disappointed  ? 

RHY 

/  have  been  so  happy  with  you  all  these  ten  years — 
selfishly  happy. 

BURGESS 

We've  got  along  better  than  most  married  people, 
I  suppose. 

RHY 

But  I'm  afraid  of  prosperity,  somehow. 

BURGESS 

We've  managed  to  get  through  the  hard  days, 
That's  the  real  test,  isn't  it? 


THE  UNBORN  193 

RHY 

(Doubtfully) 

I'm  not  sure.     When  we  started  in  with  our  little 
picture  gallery,   we  only  had  each  other.     But  now 

that  we  have  everything 

(She  shakes  her  head  slowly.) 

BURGESS 
(Looking  at  her) 
Have  we  everything  now? 

RHY 
All  we  want,  I  mean. 

BURGESS 
(Slowly) 

All  you   want. 

RHY 

(With  a  quick  glance,  as  she  rises) 
I  was  speaking  of  what  we  own. 

BURGESS 
(Enigmatically) 
So  I  thought. 

RHY 
But  you  were  thinking  of  the — the  other  thing. 

BURGESS 
Isn't  it  a  bit  natural,  sometimes? 


194  THE  UNBORN 

RHY 

(Quietly) 
It's  generally  the  woman  who 


BURGESS 
Men  don't  say  it. 

RHY 

(Moved) 

I  felt  you  blaming  me  these  many  months;  maybe 
it's  been  years. 

BURGESS 
(Tenderly) 

I've  not  blamed  you,  dear.  I  have  only  been  wait 
ing  for  you  to  speak. 

RHY 

You  have  been  disappointed.  (He  rises  and  throws 
the  cigar  in  the  fireplace.)  But  we  were  so  poor  at 
the  start,  Wilton.  You  agreed  with  me  that  if  we  were 
to  have  children  we  ought  first  to  be  able  to  give 
them  everything.  / 

BURGESS 
Yes;  I  fooled  myself,  too. 

RHY 

(Quickly) 
Do  you  believe  that  I ? 


THE  UNBORN  195 

BURGESS 
Maybe  we  both  have  been  cowards! 

RHY 
Wilton! 

BURGESS 

Yes,  afraid   to  assume  the   responsibility.      (Seeing 
she  is  unhappy)  But  don't  let's  talk  of  it,  dear. 

RHY 

(With   some   difficulty} 
We  must;  it's  always  in  your  thoughts. 

BURGESS 

(Co??iing  to  her  and  taking  her  hands} 
Isn't  it  ever  in  yours? 

RHY 

(Lowering  her  eyes) 
That's  unkind  of  you. 

BURGESS 

Well,  anyway,  I  mustn't  hurt  you  like  this.     For 
give  me!       Maybe  the  accident  shook  me  up  a  bit. 

RHY 
(Dully) 

You  won't  understand. 


196  THE  UNBORN 

BURGESS 

Perhaps  fear  is  natural  with  some  women.  I  don't 
blame  them. 

RHY 
(Quickly) 

I'm  not  afraid  of  having  a  child.  I'm  afraid  of 
afterwards:  when  it  faces  life — with  its  innocence,  its 
enthusiasm,  its  hopes. 

BURGESS 
Is  life  so  terrible? 

RHY 

Yes;  when  one  thinks  of  it. 

BURGESS 
( Tenderly  ) 
Don't  you  ever  feel  like  giving  life,  Rhy? 

RHY 
(Slowly,   as    though    trying    to    fathom    her   intimate 

feelings) 

Sometimes:  yes,  sometimes;  only — something  holds 
me  back.  There's  something  locked :  some  barrier  that 
needs  sweeping  away.  (Half  desperately)  Oh,  if  I 
were  only  sure  of  life. 

BURGESS 
(Turning  away) 
One  never  is. 


THE  UNBORN  197 

RHY 

There  are  moments  when  one  knows  everything. 

BURGESS 

(Thoughtfully,  after  a  long  silence) 
It's  been  ten  years.     We're  getting  older,  and  soon 
you 

RHY 

(Lowering  her  eyes) 
I  know. 

BURGESS 

There  shouldn't  be  too  many  years  between  parents 
and  their  children.  They  both  lose  touch  as  they  grow 
older. 

RHY 
(Shyly) 
But  I'm  not  ready  yet.     Unless — unless — you ? 

BURGESS 
Insist  ? 

RHY 

(Half  inaudibly) 
Some  men  do. 

BURGESS 
(Soothing  her) 

I  never  will,  Rhy.  I  think  it  should  be  a  mutual 
wish. 


198  THE  UNBORN 

RHY 

(Close  to  him) 

You've  been  a  dear.  You've  always  considered  me. 
I  realize,  when  I  hear  other  wives  talk,  what  it  means 
to  have  a  husband  like  you. 

BURGESS 

I  have  never  forgotten  that  it  is  you  who  bear  the 
child. 

RHY 
(Slowly) 

And  in  your  heart  you  think  I've  taken  advantage 
of  your — your  consideration  ? 

BURGESS 
I  only  know  there  are  millions  of  mothers! 


RHY 

(Gazing  thoughtfully  before  her) 
I  wonder  how  many  would  have  been  mothers  if 
they'd  known  all  they  had  to  go  through,  or  if  they'd 
even  had  my  experience  bringing  up  children  ?  It  was 
all  left  on  my  shoulders,  you  know,  when  mother 
died. 

BURGESS 

(With  an  unconscious  touch   of  bitterness) 
But  I  never  like  to  believe  it  was  the  care  you  gave 
your  two  little  sisters  which  was  to  wear  out  your 
feeling  for  children  of  your  own. 


THE  UNBORN  199 

RHY 

Don't  say  that. 

BURGESS 
Well,  then:  robbed  me  of  my  right. 

RHY 

Your  right? 

BURGESS 
I  didn't  mean  to  use  that  harsh  word. 

RHY 
It's  as  good  as  any  other  to  describe  your  feeling. 

BURGESS 

Rhy?  (With  consideration  again.)  What  is  a 
husband  to  do  if  he  loves  his  wife  and  wants  children 
and — and  finds  his  house  empty? 

RHY 

Empty?  Wilton,  I'm  here.  I  love  you.  Can't  /  be 
everything  to  you  as  you  are  to  me? 

BURGESS 
It  isn't  a  question  of  that. 

RHY 

It  is  with  me.  And  maybe  that's  the  reason  I  can't 
give  myself  completely  to  the  other. 


200  THE  UNBORN 

BURGESS 
What  do  you  mean  ? 

RHY 

That  sometimes  a  child  takes  a  woman  away  from 
her  husband. 

BURGESS 
I  see.     I  see.     You  don't  trust  yourself. 

RHY 

It  isn't  that.  (Inadvertently)  Only,  maybe,  I'm  not 
sure  of  you. 

BURGESS 
When  I  want  it  so? 

RHY 

(Defensively) 

Many  men  do  before  the  child  comes.  But  do  you 
know  what  it  means  ?  Does  any  man  really  know  be 
forehand  ?  We've  been  so  close  in  everything,  Wilton ; 
I've  shared  your  work.  Every  day  I've  gone  to  the 
office  with  you,  just  as  when  we  were  starting  our 
little  shop  together;  and  even  now  when  we  have 
assistants  and  some  one  else  could  do  my  work.  That 
would  all  have  to  be  changed,  dear. 

BURGESS 

Maybe  I — I  would  like  it  to  be  changed.  (She 
withdraws  her  hands  from  his  shoulders  as  though 
hurt.)  I  never  could  have  been  where  I  am  without 


THE  UNBORN  201 

you.  I  realize  that.  But  we  have  everything,  as  you 
say.  I  suppose  it's  a  masculine  instinct,  yet  I  hate 
to  see  you  work  every  day  with  those  children,  posing 
them,  handling  them,  understanding  them  like  a  born 
mother.  And  then  always  the  thought  they're  not  our 
children.  They  belong  to  mothers  who  didn't  want 
them,  fathers  who  didn't  want  them.  Oh,  I  simply 
can't  see  you  there  any  longer,  Rhy. 

RHY 
(Sharply) 

You  want  to  take  my  work  from  me  ? 

BURGESS 

No.     But 

RHY 

(With  feeling) 

All  the  years  I've  shared  it  with  you,  built  it  up, 
helped  you.  Wasn't  it  my  suggestion  that  you  special 
ize  on  children's  pictures?  Hasn't  it  all  been  my  work 
as  well  as  yours? 

BURGESS 
(Testily) 

Yes,  but  for  what  have  we  worked?  Just  for  our 
selves?  Is  that  all  there  is  in  life?  (With  a  quick, 
intuitive  glance)  Rhy!  Is  that  why  you're  afraid  of 
motherhood  ? 

RHY 
No,  no. 


202  THE  UNBORN 

BURGESS 
Your  work  does  mean  more  to  you  than  that. 

RHY 

(Defending  herself) 
Would  you  give  up  your  work  to  be  a  father? 

BURGESS 
Don't  be  absurd.    It's  not  the  same  with  a  man. 

RHY 

It's  a  choice  many  women  have  to  face  these  days. 

BURGESS 
Some  women  have  both. 

RHY 

7  should  want  to  give  everything  to  my  child.  I 
couldn't  bear  to  have  anybody  else  care  for  it.  I  know 
all  the  risks,  all  the  dangers.  I've  been  through  it.  I 
know  the  incompetence  of  nurses — nurses  to  whom 
we  trust  those  little  tender  lives.  Oh,  I'd  worry 
every  moment,  as  I  did  with  my  sisters.  It's  the  way 
I'm  made.  I'd  have  to  do  everything  myself. 

(She  sinks  in  the  chair  and  he  finally  comes  to 
her,  very  tenderly.) 

BURGESS 

It's  all  right,  Rhy.  We  mustn't  let  it  come  between 
us.  That's  all,  girl,  dear. 


THE  UNBORN  203 

RHY 

(Murmuring,  as  she  kisses  his  hand) 
Just  wait — wait. 

(They  stare  thoughtfully  before  them  a  long 
while.  The  bell  rings  and,  as  it  is  repeated,  it 
gradually  seems  to  bring  them  out  of  their 
mood.) 

B  URGESS 

I  was  sure  I  heard  the  bell 

RHY 

(Drying  her  eyes) 
Who  could  it  be  this  time  of  night? 

BURGESS 
Possibly  a  telegram. 

RHY 
You'd  better  go. 

(He  goes  out  and  she  seems  puzzled.) 
What   a  curious   feeling — who  can   it  be? 

(RHY   goes    back   as   though    half-impelled   in 

spite  of  herself,  and  listens  to  the  conversation, 

outside.) 

THE  WOMAN 
Mr.  Burgess? 

BURGESS 

(Somewhat  gruffly) 
Yes. 


204  THE  UNBORN 

THE  WOMAN 
Please  may  I  see  you  a  moment,  inside  ? 

BURGESS 
But 

THE  WOMAN 
(Poignantly) 
Please — please — only  for  a  moment.     Please. 

RHY 

(As  though  moved) 
Let  her  come  in,  Wilton. 

(BuRGESS  returns,  followed  timidly  by  THE 
WOMAN,  who  is  middle-aged,  poorly  dressed, 
with  a  thin,  pale  face  and  tired  eyes. 

She  carries  a  medium-sized  package  wrapped 
in  a  newspaper.  She  looks  up  and  sees  RHY. 
There  is  an  embarrassed  pause.) 

RHY 

(Kindly) 
Do  you  wish  to  see  my  husband,  alone  ? 

THE  WOMAN 

Your  husband?  Oh,  please,  don't  go,  Mrs.  Burgess. 
Maybe  having  a  lady  here  with  me  will  help  him  to 
understand  better. 

BURGESS 

(Impatiently) 

But  if  you've  any  business,  why  didn't  you  come  and 
see  me  at  my  office  ? 


THE  UNBORN  205 

THE  WOMAN 

(Simply) 
I  go  to  work  before  your  office  is  open. 

BURGESS 
I'm  always  there  till  after  five. 

THE  WOMAN 
I  work  till  six. 

RHY 

(Who  has  been  some-what  mysteriously  impressed) 
Sit  down.     You  must  be  tired. 

THE  WOMAN 

(Sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  chair) 
Thanks. 

RHY 

(After  a  pause) 
You're  trembling.    Are  you  cold? 

THE  WOMAN 

No:  guess  I'm  shaky  coming  to  a  gentleman's  house 
like  this. 

RHY 
But  you  must  have  had  a  good  reason. 

THE  WOMAN 

(Quickly) 

Oh,  I  have.     (Turning  to  MR.  BURGESS)  I've  come 
to  bring  you  something  what's  yours. 


206  THE  UNBORN 

BURGESS 
(Surprised) 
Mine? 

THE  WOMAN 
(Indicating   package) 

I  left  it  at  the  door,  like  they  do  children  they  don't 
want.  I  rang  the  bell  and  went  across  the  street  to 
see  if  you'd  get  it.  But  you  didn't  go  to  the  door.  I 
was  fraid  it  would  get  broken  or  stolen  if  I  left  it 
there  all  night.  I  couldn't  leave  it,  so  I  thought  you'd 
let  me  explain. 

(With  some  slight  hesitation  THE  WOMAN 
nervously  unwraps  the  package.  She  hands  a 
small  framed  photograph  timidly  to  BURGESS, 
who  is  greatly  surprised  on  seeing  it.  RHY 
watches,  puzzled  and  interested.) 

BURGESS 
(Rather  sharply) 
Where  did  you  get  this? 

THE  WOMAN 

(Nervously) 

I  can  explain.  A  friend.  She  gave  it  to  me  to  give 
you  'cause  she  wanted  to  be  sure  you'd  get  it  back  safe, 
and  'cause  she  was  afraid  if  she  brought  it  back  her 
self,  you  might  arrest  her. 

RHY 

What   is  she  saying,  Wilton? 


THE  UNBORN  207 

BURGESS 

Your  friend  was  right.     But  I  don't  see  how  your 
coming  is  going  to  save  her. 

THE  WOMAN 
(Poignantly) 
You  wouldn't  arrest  her  when  she  sent  me  back  with 

it? 

RHY 
What  is  it,  Wilton  ?  ' 

THE  WOMAN 
(Slowly) 

It's  the  picture  what  was  stolen  from  your  show 
case. 

BURGESS 
(Eyeing  her) 

If  your  friend  were  afraid  of  arrest,  why  didn't  she 
send  it  back  by  express  or  destroy  it? 

THE  WOMAN 

Destroy  that?  Oh,  she  couldn't  do  it.  She  tried. 
(Quickly,  as  he  eyes  her  suspiciously)  She  told  me  she 
tried. 

RHY 
Let  me  see  it,  Wilton. 

(THE  WOMAN  takes  it  from  BURGESS,  gives 
it  a  quick  glance,  and  hands  it  to  RHY,  return 
ing  to  her  seat.) 


208  THE  UNBORN 

RHY 
Oh,  yes;  I  remember. 

THE  WOMAN 
(Her  face  glowing) 
Ain't  he  beautiful? 

RHY 
Yes,  I  suppose  so. 

THE  WOMAN 
(She  speaks  as  though  it  were  all  real,  while  they  listen 

with  increased  interest) 

My  friend  told  me  the  boy  used  to  call  for  her  to 
take  him  from  the  show-case  every  day,  when  she  went 
to  work,  all  the  winter  mornings,  when  the  lights  were 
still  on,  and  every  evening  when  she  went  home  in 
the  dark.  She'd  heard  him  calling  when  she  was  work 
ing,  when  all  the  other  noises  in  the  shop  were  trying 
to  drown  his  voice.  And  she  couldn't  just  wait  till 
she  could  stand  alone  before  him.  And  he'd  talk  to 
her  and  want  to  be  taken  out  of  the  cold  to  his  toys 
and  his  little  bed.  And  when  she'd  come  again  the 
next  morning,  he'd  tell  her  he  hated  being  shut  up 
with  nobody  to  pull  the  covers  up  or  pat  him  in  the 
night.  My  friend  told  me  she  had  to  do  what  he 
asked. 

RHY 

(Impressed) 
This  little  boy? 


THE  UNBORN  209 

THE  WOMAN 
(Smiling) 

Yes,  her  little  boy,  as  he  seemed  to  be,  always  call 
ing,  day  and  night,  for  her  to  take  him  from  the  show 
case. 

RHY 

Strange ! 

THE  WOMAN 

She  seemed  to  live  only  for  him.  She  had  a  child 
of  her  own  at  last. 

RHY 

She  has  no  children? 

THE  WOMAN 
She  ain't  married. 

BURGESS 
So  she  broke  the  glass  and  stole  it,  eh? 

THE  WOMAN 

Yes.  Every  night  she'd  come  back,  but  people  were 
always  near.  One  night  it  was  raining.  She  waited 
till  the  street  wras  empty.  In  the  dark,  nobody  heard 
her  break  the  glass.  Then  the  little  boy  and  her  were 
alone  in  the  rain.  She  put  him  close  to  her  so  he 
wouldn't  get  wet.  She  ran  home.  He  kept  her  warm. 
She  could  feel  him  loving  at  her  breast — her  dry  breast. 
Oh — (There  is  a  pause)  Then  she  put  him  on  a 


210  THE  UNBORN 

chair  beside  her  bed  and  she  slept  for  the  first  time 
since  she'd  seen  him. 

RHY 

(  Tenderly  ) 
Then  why  didn't  she  keep  him? 

THE  WOMAN 

Because  her  room  was  dirty  and  small  and  she  was 
away  all  day  working,  and  it  wasn't  no  place  to  keep 
a  child. 

BURGESS 
Let  me  have  the  photograph,  Rhy. 

(He    takes    it    and    THE    WOMAN    eagerly 
watches  him  as  he  smiles  at  the  picture.) 
Umph !  so  she  wanted  you  enough  to  steal  you  ?    Well, 
my  little  lad,  we'll  not  have  you  tempting  people  like 
that. 

(He  lifts  it  high  above  him  as  though  intending 
to  break  it.) 

THE  WOMAN 

(Startled) 
Don't! 

BURGESS 

(Putting  it  down  slowly   and  speaking  kindly) 
You  stole  it  yourself. 

THE  WOMAN 

(Faltering) 
Yes. 


THE  UNBORN  211 

BURGESS 
I   thought  so. 

RHY 
Oh! 

THE  WOMAN 
(With   emotion) 

Don't  turn  away  from  me,  Mrs.  Burgess.     I  ain't 

a  real  thief.    I  did  it  because  I  didn't  have  what  other 

women  had.     Because  I  had  so  much  to  give  the  boy ! 

(There  is  a  pause  as  THE  WOMAN  lowers  her 

eyes  and  quietly   sobs.     BURGESS   watches   her 

as  though  trying  to  think  what  to  do.     RHY 

gazes  at  her,  then  goes  slowly  to  her,  putting 

her  hand  on  THE  WOMAN'S  shoulder.     THE 

WOMAN  looks  up,  takes  it  impulsively,  and  then 

lets  it  go.) 

THE  WOMAN 

I  beg  pardon.     I  ain't  used  to  having  people  kind 
to  me. 

RHY 

(With  a  certain  awe) 
And  you  work  in  a  shop  ten  hours  a  day. 

THE  WOMAN 
Yes.    Ten  hours. 

RHY 
Oh,  the  waste,  Wilton— the  waste! 


212  THE  UNBORN 

BURGESS 

Yes;  when  women  have  so  much  motherhood  to  give 
and  can't  or  won't. 

(RHY  looks  at  her  husband,  understanding  his 
implication.  Then  wiping  her  eyes,  she  gazes 
at  THE  WOMAN,  who  sits  with  her  head  bowed 
in  depression.) 

RHY 

Do  you  love  the  little  boy? 

THE  WOMAN 
Yes. 

BURGESS 

You  talk  as  though  the  photograph  were  something 
real. 

THE  WOMAN 
He  wanted  love.    It's  in  his  eyes. 

BURGESS 
That's  odd. 

RHY 

Whose  child  is  it,  Wilton  ? 

BURGESS 

The   Burlingames'.     He's   gone   to   the   dogs:   you 
know  what  became  of  his  wife. 

THE  WOMAN 
And  they  had  a  beautiful  boy  like  that! 


THE  UNBORN  213 

BURGESS 
(Smiling) 

Why,  the  boy's  a  young  man  now,  able  to  take  care 
of  himself.     This  photograph  was  taken  years  ago. 

THE  WOMAN 
(Startled) 

He's  grown  up? 

BURGESS 
Yes. 

THE  WOMAN 

(Poignantly) 
And  his  curls?    Have  they  cut  his  curls? 

BURGESS 
Why,  of  course. 

THE  WOMAN 
(As   though   she    had   lost    everything) 

Oh,  I  never  thought  he'd  grow  up! 

(There  seems  nothing  they  can  say:  they  look 
at  each  other,  deeply  moved.  Then  they  watch 
her  as  she  rises  and  sighs  like  one  who  has  had 
to  accept  all  things  in  life.) 

I'll  be  going  now  if  you'll  let  me. 

BURGESS 

I'd   really  forgotten  all  about  this.     I   didn't  even 
report  it  to  the  police.     So  you've  nothing  to  fear. 


214  THE  UNBORN 

THE  WOMAN 

There  ain't  much  difference  in  jail  and  my  work  ex 
cept  I  can  walk  out  at  night. 

RHY 

(Impulsively) 
Would  you  like  the  photograph? 

BURGESS 
Yes:  do  take  it. 

THE  WOMAN 

(Refusing  it,  with  difficulty) 

No,  no.  I  couldn't  take  him  back  where  I  live. 
He  seemed  to  grow  sadder  there.  Maybe  he  was  like 
the  other  children.  (They  look  at  her  in  question.) 
They're  all  like  that — the  real  ones;  they  like  me  a 
little  at  first,  but  I  feel  them  grow  away  from  me.  I 
thought  he  wouldn't  because — because  he  was  only 
make-believe.  And  he  looked  like  him. 

RHY 

Him? 

THE  WOMAN 
(Simply) 

Him  I  was  promised  to  marry.  That's  what's  so 
hard.  He  died  and  I've  nothing  of  him  only  what's 
in  my  thoughts.  I  wanted  a  kid  so  and  then  he  was 
took  off  sudden  and  I  was  alone.  (Wistfully)  Oh,  it's 
awful  not  to  have  something  that's  your  man's;  some- 


THE  UNBORN  215 

thing  you  can  see  living  about  you — that  keeps  speakin' 
to  you  with  his  eyes  or  looks,  after  he's  gone  and  a 
woman's  left  alone 

BURGESS 
(Quietly) 

Would  you  like  if,  instead,  we  put  the  little  boy 
back  in  the  window  ? 

THE  WOMAN 

(Eagerly) 
Oh,  would  you? 

BURGESS 
The  first  thing  in  the  morning.    Yes. 

THE  WOMAN 
That  will  be  something  when  I  walk  past. 

BURGESS 

And  will  you  come  in  and  see  me  to-morrow  after 
your  work  is  finished?  I'll  wait  for  you.  Maybe  we 
can  find  something  else  for  you  to  do,  if  you  wish. 

THE  WOMAN 

Oh,  thanks.  Thanks.  ( Turning  to  RHY,  who  has 
stood  lost  in  thought.)  Good-night,  Mrs.  Burgess. 

RHY 

Good-night. 


216  THE  UNBORN 

THE  WOMAN 
(Smiling) 

I  thought  a  mother  would  help  a  man  to  under 
stand. 

RHY 

A  mother! 

THE  WOMAN 
I  feel  so  much  happier  now.     Good-night. 

(RHY  stares  before  her  The  others  go  out. 
She  does  not  move.  A  curious  glow  comes 
into  her  face.  A  deep  emotion  slowly  floods  a 
definite  thought  which  has  taken  possession  of 
her.  She  half  swoons.  The  outer  door  closes 
and  BURGESS  re-enters.) 

RHY 

Wilton!     Wilton!!      (Goes  to  him,  embracing  him 
eagerly.)     Oh,  if  anything  should  happen  to  you! 

BURGESS 

(Not  understanding) 
Rhy,  what's  come  over  you? 

RHY 

It  might  have  been  yesterday!      (Terrified  at  the 
thought)   Oh,  it  would  kill  me  if  an  accident  or 

BURGESS 

( Trying  to  quiet  her) 
She's  upset  you,  Rhy. 


THE  UNBORN  217 

RHY 

(Clutching  him  close) 

Oh,  I  never  thought  of  it  that  way!     Being  left 
alone  without  having — oh! 

BURGESS 

(Slowly  understanding) 
Dearest  ? 

RHY 

( Sobbing  hysterically ) 

She's  broken  something  in  me.     She's  swept  away 
things 

BURGESS 
Don't  cry — don't!    Little  wife. 

RHY 

(Almost  shyly) 

Dearest,  you'll  be  good  to  me?    If 

(He  kisses  her  for  an  answer,  and  holds  her 
tenderly   in  his  arms.) 

[THE  CURTAIN  FALLS] 


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